Our Tree
by free4851
Summary: When Bella finds herself engaged to the man she SHOULD want to marry, all she can do is remember the one who got away... AU; all human. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations.
1. Chapter 1 2000

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: this story will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)**

**Check out my profile page for songs that inspired this story. I also have a basic blog set up with pics/banners!**

**This chapter is (for all practical purposes) present day...**

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**Chapter 1 (January 2000)**

"How was your trip, doll face?" This is how Alice answered her phone. I was not at all surprised. She had boycotted the colloquial and traditional _hello, _since her fascination with Ben Cheney in the eighth grade. At the time she claimed that since their song as a couple had been Lionel Richie's "Hello," she could no longer bear to utter the word. It was just one of Alice's many overly melodramatic moments, and though Ben Cheney had long since been forgotten her "anti-hello" bent remained, purely out of habit.

"I am looking at a beautiful Tiffany cushion cut diamond ring as we speak." I cradled the phone between my shoulder and cheek. My right hand was busy holding a steaming cup of coffee; and my left was extended in front of me to make my admiration easier.

"And where exactly is this ring? Bella, are you stalking jewelry web sites again?" Alice inquired sarcastically.

"Nope. No web site. Stalking internet shopping sites is your gig. I'm looking at the actual ring."

"Okaaaaaay?" She drew the word into four syllables.

"On my hand. My left hand that is. Ring finger to be exact."

Alice squealed in an octave high enough to shatter wine glasses everywhere. "You're engaged!" The sheer volume of the squeal so startled me it caused me to let the phone slip and fall down to the carpet below me.

"Hang on Al!" I yelled down at the phone. "Dropped the phone."

I sat my coffee on the side table, plopped down to the ground, grabbed the phone and brought it up to my ear again. Her squealing was still in full effect just as I expected, and she hadn't noticed I'd even dropped the phone. I held the receiver several inches away from my ear and waited. She eased up seconds later and transitioned seamlessly into a very classic Alice-style unintelligible tangent. "OhmygoshIamsoexcitedforyou!"

I closed my eyes and pictured the way I knew she looked as she spoke: her almost black eyes animated in utter delight, her rosy lips moving a mile a minute, and her shock of short black hair moving in time as her head bobbed along with the cadence of her words. It warmed my heart and caused it to ache at the same time. I missed my friend.

"You may be more excited than I am." I mused, only partially kidding. Wishing I wasn't. A very familiar gnawing sensation ripped through my gut as I spoke. I did my best to ignore it, because I knew very well what it was and _it _wasn't welcome.

"The word _excited_ isn't enough." Alice rambled on breathlessly, making it a little easier for me dismiss the discomfort inside me. "I am _so_ happy for you. So very happy. I wondered when good 'ol Mike would pop the question!"

Lucky for me, in most instances anyway, Alice had an emotional contagiousness to her. If she was happy, you were too. Period. This was true of my best friend, no matter where she was emotionally. And most of the time, it was a good thing to be in-sync with her emotionally speaking.

Her rambling abruptly ceased and it got really quiet on her end of the line. All I could hear was muffled sniffles.

"Are you crying, Al? You're crying, aren't you?" I felt a lump forming in my own throat and a sting in my eyes that let me know tears were but milliseconds away. Like I said, emotional contagiousness.

"I am crying. I'm just overwhelmed, Bells. No one deserves this more." She muttered through quiet tears. "No one. And you've been through so much."

"Don't cry, Alice." I pleaded, as moisture welled up in the lower lids of my eyes. "You're gonna make me cry, and I really don't want to. This is a happy time, right? We are supposed to be blissfully ecstatic."

"It is a happy time. We _are __ecstatic._ I'm sorry," she squeaked, "but you know I'm an emotional person. When I'm pregnant it's like a bazillion times worse."

I intentionally squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to stave off an all-out down pour of tears. They came anyway, freely flowing down my face and collecting in the corners of my mouth. I was crying in response to Alice's innately passionate response to my news. I was also crying in the joy of having such a good friend with whom to share it with. But there was so much more to my tears and I knew that; they were unmistakably from a mixed bag of emotions. And that mixed bag was responsible for the inescapable gnawing in my gut that was turning my engagement into nothing but a one-way ticket to an ulcer.

I bit my lip and swallowed, somehow managing to find a steady voice to use, "Speaking of being pregnant…"

"Oh my gosh! You're pregnant! It's a shotgun wedding? I never in a billion years would have pegged you..."

"Of course I'm not preganat." I snapped back, initially defensive. But then I couldn't help but giggle. How so very Alice was it for her to jump from A to Z in two seconds flat. "Could you let a girl finish?"

"Sorry." She sniffed. "Can I blame my overzealousness on the pregnancy too?"

"Not a chance." I said flatly. "You've been overzealous since the day I met you."

She exhaled loudly. "Can't argue that I suppose. Please go on."

"What I was _going_ to say is that we have tentatively set the wedding date for June 15th. Which means you will be a very pregnant, but not too pregnant to travel matron of honor. That is, if you would like to be?"

This time Alice began unabashedly weeping into the phone. "I," sob, "would love," sob, "to be," sob. "What an epic honor, Bella."

"Oh, Al, I'm so glad." And I was. Though I was sure she'd agree to the role, I was still nervous to ask her for some reason. It felt like I was requesting she donate blood or make a contribution to a charity: a good thing that comes at a small price. "You'll be precious. Absolutely precious. And there is no one else I want by my side on that day."

In my mind's eye I could see the both of us on my wedding day and exactly how we'd look. I'd be the glowing bride and Alice would be by my side, ever the dutiful bridesmaid making sure my train was perfectly situated behind me. It was an image I'd stored in the recesses of my mind for many years. What we wore in this image had evolved with my taste over the years. And who was on the receiving end of my vows had changed a couple of times as well, though not as often as one might think. The very consideration of that brought the gnawing back with a vengeance.

"You're just glad to have me in your wedding because I provide you a one hundred percent guarantee that you will be ravishing next to Shamu the knocked-up bridesmaid." She was still crying, but there was levity through her tears.

"Alice, you are the tiniest person I know, even pregnant."

"You haven't seen me."

"I saw you with the twins."

"It's different the second time around. Your body has memory. It knows how to be pregnant and it pops right out almost immediately! Like I said, I'll be a dead ringer for Shamu."

"What if I promise the dress won't be black with a large white polka dot on it?"

"In that case, I'm in." I didn't have to see her to know she was smiling.

"I love you, Alice Brandon Hale," I murmured, meaning it heart and soul.

"What's _not_ to love?" She announced boldly. It was her tag line of sorts, and hearing it sent a wave of console right through me.

We wrapped up our phone conversation by hammering out the details of my upcoming visit to see Alice and her sweet little family in Dallas. It would be my chance to shamelessly spoil her 2-year-old twin mini-me's, Emily and Evelyn. I would also use the time to scour the shops there for the perfect bridesmaid dresses. I figured that Alice, being the only one of my five bridesmaids who would be dealing with a seven month pregnancy bump, had the unspoken right to hand pick the dresses. Plus, she had amazing fashion sense; far better than mine.

As for my dress, I already had a plan for that. It was something I figured out years ago when my mom, Renee, showed me her wedding pictures. The dress she got married in was classic and reminiscent of something Grace Kelly would have worn. It was sleeveless with an empire waistline and very minimally adorned. It was simple and elegant; exactly my taste and just what I would look for if I were shopping for a new dress. Plus, my mom had been petite just as I was, so there would be very little, if any alterations necessary. There were no reasons not to use it, and many telling me I should. But aside from these reasons, the best thing about the dress was simply that it had been hers. She had picked it out, married my father in it and carefully boxed it up in hopes that her daughter might someday be interested in using it. Though she wouldn't actually get to see me wear it, I would honor Renee on my wedding day by donning it; and the hole in my heart that had been there since the moment she left this planet, just might not be so endlessly cavernous on that day.

Just thinking about my mother and her perfectly perfect dress made me want to see it. In fact, in that moment, nothing seemed quite as urgent as seeing the gown. Since the actual dress itself was boxed up and stored in a unit across town, I'd knew I'd have to settle for seeing it in a photograph. So I made my way to the guest room, which was actually the bedroom from my youth. I had transformed the space from a "Bella in high school" shrine into a room worthy of gracing the pages of a Pottery Barn catalog, a few years prior. This all took place, along with a complete, albeit slow, overhaul of the entire house when my father died and the home officially became mine.

I pulled a wooden desk chair into the closet and climbed up on it so I could reach the highest shelf. When the chair wavered the tiniest bit, it only briefly crossed my mind that my mother had crushed her elbow after falling from the same chair when she'd climbed on it to reach something in this very closet some twenty-five years ago. Since I was already missing her, had I spent more time ruminating over the déjà vu-ness of the moment I would have certainly started crying. And that was something I didn't want to do. Something I had hoped to avoid that entire evening; and had so far failed miserably at, thanks to Alice.

I was determined to be happy no matter what it took, because girls who are newly engaged to amazing guys are happy. They don't cry at the drop of a hat and they don't have a smoldering gnaw in their gut that let's them know in their deepest of deep parts that something...something that they refuse to face...is wrong. Completely wrong.

Up on my tiptoes, I was able to retrieve a box of pictures wedged on the very back of the shelf. I got it down using every bit of upper body strength and balance I could muster and sat it on the guestroom bed with a _whoomph_. The photo box was fourteen inches by seven and crammed to the rim. With a loud exhalation I turned it upside down and heaved the mass of pictures onto the bed around me. Thus began the search for a needle in the haystack.

At least five hundred pictures stared up at me, and they were snapshots of literally every part of my life. There was no rhyme or reason to how the photos were arranged, or more accurately thrown into the box. Because of this randomness, a picture of me at ten years old in the science fair, was juxtaposed with one of me in junior high orchestra and that one would be sitting on top of one of me from nursing school graduation.

"Yikes. This could be a long night." I said it out loud even though I was by myself. It was difficult to feel alone with all those faces looking up at me.

I gently stirred the picture mix around me with my fingertips hoping the one I was looking for -mom in her dress at her wedding reception- would somehow just jump out at me. Amidst the mosaic blur of colors and shapes, one photo, albeit not the right one, did catch my eye. Almost leaping out of the pile in animation. Two bright-eyed, still slightly cherubic faces commanded my attention. There I was eight years old with a big toothless grin standing shoulder to shoulder with a green-eyed boy; the boy next door to be exact.

"Oh my." I whispered. Nostalgia covered every inch of me like a heavy wool blanket, causing my stomach to tighten and contract as if I'd been kicked in the gut. The gnawing ensued with a greater intensity than ever before and tears pooled in my eyes. Despite my steely resolve, I could no longer deny my emotions. I couldn't have swallowed back the tears or ignored the gnawing within me had my life depended on it.

They were two innocent faces captured in a photo, and they instantly held me captive; wielding the power to release a thousand memories. I took in a deep bracing breath and bit my lip, overwhelmed by the stirring within me. Even with full knowledge that I shouldn't go there, that I should simply toss the picture back into the pile and continue my search; I drew the photo closer. I was literally incapable of taking my eyes off of it.

"Look at you, Edward Masen." I whispered almost inaudibly as a teardrop landed on the picture.

His face was dirty from a full day of summertime play. His crooked smile was mischievous as was a certain glint in his jade eyes that was detectable even in the graininess of the print. His brown-bronze hair was tousled and possibly even had a blade or two of grass in it. He had on his ratty over-worn Z-Up t-shirt. Though the picture was cropped at the waist, I knew if it hadn't been it would reveal his cut off denim shorts, tube socks with blue sport stripes and Fast Back Velcro tennis shoes. It was his warm weather uniform for all practical purposes.

Then I examined the image of me; so familiar but such a distant memory. My dark brown hair had sun kissed caramel-gold streaks in it that I had spent an adulthood trying to artificially recreate to no avail. It was pulled up into pigtails so tight my brown eyes should have been pulled back into slits, and several wisps of hair were plastered with kid sweat to my face. I had on my favorite Holly Hobby tee and though they didn't show due to the cropping of the picture, I was certain I was sporting my white two-strap leather sandals.

My little head was tilted in toward Edward's and he had his arm perched across my shoulders. We looked every bit the two peas in a pod that we were, so young and fresh with our lives ahead of us. Life hadn't been cruel to us yet. We were still the raw uncut versions of ourselves. The person you are before heartache and disappointment comes knocking and insidiously changes you.

"Where did you go, Bella?" I whispered, caressing the image, longing to once again know that little girl who had not a worry in the world. "I miss you."

The backdrop of the picture was a thick tree trunk; nothing that special to most, but of utmost importance to us. We were posed in front of the stately Sycamore that sat between our two houses. _Our Tree_, as we named it was really like a silent third player in the scenes of our lives. It had shaded us in the storms, allowed the sunshine to peek through its branches just when we needed a touch of hope, and made its huge green leaves dance for us when we were on top of the world. So much of my childhood was spent under that very tree and it had undoubtedly witnessed an inordinate amount of significant moments that were my life as I knew it. And more often than not, Edward Masen had been by my side in those moments.

I held the photograph in my trembling left hand and I found myself fleetingly glancing at my ring. Yet my eyes were drawn to the picture with a gravity I didn't understand. Every second that I allowed my eyes to rest on that photo, the past bubbled with increasing tumult just under the surface of me; as my engagement diamond in all it's brilliance simply faded into the background.

Impulsively I left the mess of photos on the bed and headed out the back door of my house clutching the picture tightly against my chest. When I got to Our Tree I lay down on the fescue in the very spot where the shot had been snapped by my mother twenty-two years prior on her favorite Polaroid camera. It was where I wanted to be; where I _needed_ to be, and it was only there that the perpetual gnawing finally subsided.

As I laid there in relief over finding respite from the gnawing, time stood still for me. Holding that aged Polaroid offered me a calm I hadn't been acquainted with in months, and I was in no hurry to leave the strange peace I'd found. I laid there for so long that afternoon, the sun disappeared behind me and by the time darkness overtook the sky, my eyes were weary and sore; my vision blurry. I had scrutinized the photo until every minute detail of it was committed to memory. Taking the most care to study their sweet little eyes, which thanks to a couple of uninhibited grins had taken the shape of half moons. I stared at and studied their innocent faces, obsessively so, until I wasn't looking _at_ them anymore, but rather _through_ them to something I knew so well and that had shaped everything about me. I looked through them to their story.

My story...


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: this story will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)**

**(Chapter 2 takes place in 1982 when Edward and Bella are in 2nd grade)**

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**Chapter Two-Banana Seat Bike (1982)**

"I can do this." I thought to myself. It was not as much a proclamation as it was an attempt to convince myself it was true.

"I can do this!" This time I yelled the words out loud, with fervor and conviction as if I really did believe it.

I stared with determined eyes at the ramp that stood some fifty feet down the sidewalk from me. I was John Wayne in the movies my dad, Charlie, always forced me to watch; preparing for a duel with the bad guy in a black hat.

This bike ramp was no run of the mill ramp. It was _the_ bike ramp of all bike ramps, designed and constructed by the boys on my street; the whole slew of them.

There were ten houses on my little block, producing nine kids total. Seven of them were boys, which left me and baby Crystal Miller as the only girls. She was all of seven months old and contributed nothing to the cause of girl-power. She might as well have been a pet gerbil, as far as I was concerned.

So I angrily sized up this ramp that Edward, Peter, Nathan, Felix, Tyler, Kevin, and Brent had painstakingly worked on for almost a whole day. I wanted nothing more than to conquer it; so much so I could taste it. To me dominating that stupid ramp was about disproving everything those boys believed to be true about me and anyone with XX chromosomes, in general.

I had only been allowed to _observe _the ramp being built, because according to them, girls just didn't get what goes into a good bike ramp. Apparently little boys don't know what makes a good bike ramp either. Their plywood and four by four creation had the structural stability of a blanket tent made with couch cushions.

Once this piece of colossal coolness, as Tyler called it, was finished, I was also forbidden to jump it. This time I was restricted because a girl, especially one with a banana seat bike, could never handle such a "cool joe ramp."

Frustrated, I watched all seven of them take the ramp head on, each channeling their inner Evel Knievel. I secretly hoped for falls and crashes and subsequent tears from every last one of them. Yet surprisingly, and truly by the grace of God alone, they made most every attempt with only a scrape of the knee or a sore wrist as evidence. Even Felix, who had gotten ten stitches, lost his big toe nail and dislocated his pinkie in the past two weeks, was clearing the ramp with flying colors. I didn't know it at the time, but I was getting my first taste of a thing called the male ego, which was fueled by whatever amount of testosterone circulates in the eight or nine year old male body. Apparently it was a sufficient enough amount to make scrawny little boys achieve far more than should be possible.

You could almost see their chests puffing with pride with each successful or semi successful jump; especially Edward. He was the natural leader of the bunch and his bike prowess only solidified his position as alpha dog. Plus, and probably more importantly, he loved to show off in front of me.

He and I had known each other since the crib. We were both only children and had unofficially adopted one another as siblings, complete with the bickering and competitiveness that comes with the package. There was a comfort level between us that allowed us to treat each other horribly, and then be capable of totally forgiving and forgetting within two minutes.

Early on, as toddlers, we fought over blocks and the attention of whoever was near us. Then it turned into whose Lego structure was the best, who could imitate Gary Coleman's "What you talking bout Willis," most convincingly, or who made the top grade on the spelling test. We could turn anything into a sibling-like rivalry, and for the first seven or so years of our lives, we were on pretty equal ground.

That eighth year however, Edward had begun to out perform me when it came to anything physical. He had a natural athleticism that was rearing its head, and I simply didn't. On top of that, I was also a quite petite for an eight year old, whereas Edward was on the top of every growth chart for his age. I was at a clear disadvantage that I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge or admit.

"Why don't you just tally our jumps with sidewalk chalk, Bella?" Edward had suggested with two cleared jumps under his belt. "That way we'll know who is the best."

"Yeah, Bella, tally our jumps." Peter, the boy who said and did whatever Edward said and did, yelled. Peter held Edward in a demi-god type status, thus providing for Edward a guaranteed ally if he ever needed one.

"Can't," I snapped back, feeling above the task of making slash marks with chalk just so Edward could brag. Did he think I was some kind of Vanna White? "I'm over this. I'm going inside to set up my Smurf Village."

"I'll play with you, Bella. I'm tired anyway," Nathan, the kid with chronic asthma, wheezed. "But I call the red Smurf mushroom house and Papa Smurf."

"Fine." I leveled Edward with my eyes. "C'mon, Nathan."

So we left ramp central to set up our Smurf village that I hadn't intended on actually setting up in the first place, until Nathan opened his big mouth. It took my mind off of the stupid ramp and Edward's superiority complex, so it wasn't altogether a bad time.

After Nathan left, I stewed the rest of the afternoon. I grew angrier by the minute that I'd been restricted from that ramp, and asked to be the stupid scorekeeper of all things.

I stewed over the whole thing long enough and deeply enough that I found myself alone on my bike in front of the Crowley's house later that evening, with the ramp in my sights. My plan was to practice jumping while all the guys were playing Atari in Felix's basement. Then once I had perfected my skills, I would show Edward exactly what a girl with a banana seat bike could do.

"I'll show him and his stupid BMX piece of junk," I said aloud again, psyching myself up for what I knew would be a defining moment in my young life; not to mention a significant step for females everywhere.

I took a deep bracing breath and begin to peddle down the sidewalk with all my fifty pound might. My heart pitter-pattered within me as I came to the ramp much faster than I'd anticipated. I was almost to the edge of it, when a wave of panic swept over me. Quickly I steered to my left into the grass and fell into a heap on the lawn.

"Shoot!" I yelled, not physically harmed in any way, but mad as a hornet. My last minute chicken-out put a fire in my belly. I hopped up, brushed the grass off my jeans, picked up my bike and rode resolutely back to my starting point.

"You _will_ do this, Bella Marie Swan," I muttered under my breath.

"Three, two, one. Blastoff!"

This time I peddled even faster. I came to the ramp even quicker. My front wheel hit the plywood with a thud like sound, and I knew there was no turning back.

I flew over that ramp, soaring through the air in what felt like slow motion. Then I came down fast and I came down hard. My front wheel hit the ground, then the back one followed suit.

Elation filled my heart and I swore I could hear some crowd somewhere yelling for me and my feat of magnificence. That is, until my bike fell to the left and my body fell to the right. I extended my arm to try to catch myself.

_Snap! _I heard it, then I felt it_._ A searing pain shot through my lower right arm that was hanging there limply in a modified U shape. Oddly enough, my primary concern was not the burning pain or my noodle-esque appendage, but rather if any of the seven, namely Edward, had witnessed my mishap.

My first instinct was to scan the sidewalk on either side of the street to see if I was alone. Relieved to know I was, I decided I would walk home. My house was only at the end of the block. Surely I could get myself there and in the meantime make up a good story to tell everyone about the origin of my broken limb.

Bravely, I rose from the ashes, so to speak, only to become immediately and violently light headed; a cold sweat enveloped my body, and a sharper unrelenting pain shot through my arm. My legs gave out from underneath me and I crumbled to the pavement. I found myself in the fetal position on the sidewalk, crying like a baby for who really knows how long.

"Bella. What happened?" Edward couched down beside me sometime later; since I had no concept of time I really don't know exactly when he happened upon me. His voice was anxious and he was white as a sheet as he took in the scene before him.

"Go ahead and laugh at me, Edward," I choked out through my tears. "You were right about girls with banana seat bikes and ramps. Happy now?"

"No, I'm not happy. I'm scared. Look at your arm." He raked his hand through his crazy head of hair.

"I can't look at it again," I whispered, averting my gaze. "I threw up in my mouth when I looked at it the first time."

"What'll we do?" Panic was written all over his face. "What do _I_ do?"

"Will you just get my parents?" I sobbed, longing for my mother's soft touch and penchant for knowing exactly would make me feel better in any given moment. "I just wanna be home."

"_I'll_ get you home, Bells." His voice was weak and quiet. "Hold on to your bad arm with the good one, kay?"

"Okay," I whimpered, trying to secure my arm without intensifying the pain.

He stood up and bent down toward me, picking me up off the ground in one smooth movement. He made it look easy as if he were picking up his mom's old gray cat, and I remember being amazed at his strength.

"Edward, you're like that guy on _Real People_ who lifted a whole car up to save someone pinned underneath it. Remember? We watched it just last week. He had a surge of, what's it called? Hadrinaline?"

"I guess it is." He said wide-eyed. The color slowly returned to his face, presumably from the "hadrinaline." Then he proceeded to carry me all the way home, swiftly passing one 1960's ranch style home after another, until we reached mine.

It amounted to approximately the length of a football field. Both of us silently cried the entire way home. Neither of us spoke, with the exception of Edward telling me we were getting close because he could see the top of Our Tree.

"Will she be okay?" A teary eyed Edward whispered to my parents once he'd delivered me to them.

"I bet she'll get a cast and she'll be good as new in a blink," My mom said softly, as my dad carefully loaded me into the station wagon.

"Okay." Edward nodded his head quickly, still appearing quite bewildered. "If you say so. I've just never seen an arm look like that." His green eyes were glassy and glued on me; alternating between looking at my arm, then my face, then my arm, then my face.

"Edward, why don't you load up and go with us to the hospital?" My mother suggested gently, smiling in her own lovely way. "I think Bells could use your help."

"Sure." His eyes grew wider. "I can help. That is, if Bella thinks she could use my help."

Without thinking, I nodded my head. I didn't know exactly what kind of help Edward could provide, but it seemed like the right thing for him to be there with me.

"Let me run home and tell my folks." He was almost breathless. "Be back in a sec."

He sat next to me in the back seat and held the hand of my good arm during the ride. He continued to stare at my deformed arm and then back at my face over and over; so much so that it began to really irritate me. I hadn't seen him that somber and concerned before. Not even the time we tried to save a badly injured puppy we found in the alley. Surely finding that poor dog was a much graver situation than a busted arm.

And busted it was. I'll never forget how badly that fracture hurt. And I'll never forget Edward carrying me all the way home in what at the time, seemed like some superhuman act.

In a lot of ways Edward had been my human security blanket since birth. Despite our competitiveness and bickering, I'd always felt safe with him; the same kind of safe and ease a person feels with their family. But after that day, I saw him a bit differently because he'd shown me what safe _looked_ like. He put skin on it for me. Turns out it wouldn't be the last time he did that for me either. It was the first of many situations where the boy next door would swoop in and make things better for me.

Whether I wanted him to or not.

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**hope you've enjoyed a peek into E and B's early years.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: this story will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)**

**Chapt.3 is set in 1985. B and E are in fifth grade. And as the title implies, a certain black haired dynamo (who I will never call a pixie) enters the picture :)**

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**Chapter Three—Out with the Boys, In With the Alice (1984)**

Summertime in small town Texas was slow and uneventful overall, but not if you lived in the world we created on 67th street. Everyday held something new for me and my "can't help but love em" band of brothers. We'd play from sun up until the very last moment before darkness overtook the day. We only submitted to the lack of daylight upon hearing our fathers' voices in the distance beckoning us home. Many nights, much to our fathers' chagrin it took more than one beckoning. Each of us would, with complete drudgery, amble toward our respective houses with dirt encrusted bare feet and a pocketful of memories of a day fully lived.

We swam in those blue plastic kiddie pools, created the most intricate dirt highways you've ever seen, rode our bikes in convoys, played war with plastic machine guns using true guerilla warfare, and largely due to my influence, performed skits for our parents for a twenty five cent admission fee. The world truly was our oyster, because our world was composed of a small block of ten houses, very little supervision and twelve hours a day of endless possibilities.

For all practical purposes I was a tomboy during those summers and I had a blast embracing that. Yet what comes to my mind first and foremost are the times Edward and I would tire of the group for some reason or another. We'd give each other a look so subtle no one else could detect it. It was our signal for _let's blow this joint and head to Our Tree_. We'd quietly make our way to the magnificent 50-year-old Sycamore that stood watch over both of our homes, and really over both our lives.

There are snapshots of Edward and I as babies lying on quilts underneath that Sycamore; then of us as toddlers sheltered in its shade as we played with a tub of toys. Our mothers had introduced the tree to us in that way, and as soon as we were old enough to visit it without them, we took possession of it. It was our safe place and our retreat, and we spent many an hour lying underneath it in the shade on a bed of lusciously cool grass. A lot of times we'd just silently stare into the matrix of large leaves above us. Other times we'd talk about everything and nothing in particular.

In silence or incessant chatter, Our Tree was the place my friendship with Edward grew deep roots. Roots deep enough I believed, to always keep us close. The summer I turned eleven would be the first time my theory was tested.

At the end of our fifth grade year a new girl came to our school. Her name was Alice Brandon and she literally had me at hello. She'd moved to Texas from Maryland, so her PhD father could do research at the college in town. She was a tiny little thing, vibrant and unique with a mess of black hair, and an up to the minute wardrobe I'd only seen in movies. She was loud and confident, and something about her was almost magical in my eyes. She was the yang to my yin and I couldn't get enough of her.

Summer as usual continued on for the rest of the guys on my block, but for me, everything looked different. Alice's parents were free thinkers of sorts and didn't mind if she, their eighth of eight children, rode her bike all over God's creation. With this in mind, we planned for her to ride to my house everyday during the summer so we could spend the entire break together. And we did just that.

Alice's idea of fun included reading Tiger Beat magazine, creating a vast array of friendship beads, braiding one another's hair, doing our makeup, watching _The Outsiders_ and quoting its lines, and talking about boys, boys and more boys.

She was the definition of boy crazy and proudly claimed she would _french_ one if given the chance. I acted like I knew what that meant even though I didn't have a clue. Outside of my closeness to Edward, I just wasn't into boys the way she was. In fact, in some ways I'd all but been just one of the guys for a lot of my life.

She and I couldn't have been more different really, but that didn't seem to come between us. We were quite compatible, likely because she did most of the talking and I did all of the listening. She loved an audience and I loved being hers, so the set up was impeccable.

"I'm going to get some lace gloves like Madonna. They look so amazing on her," Alice said while flipping through the pages of the latest _Tiger Beat_. "Madonna is Italian. I am one sixteenth Italian. We are _so_ connected like that."

"Yeah." I tried to seem interested and as well versed in all things Madonna as Alice was, when the truth was Madonna hadn't been a word in my vocabulary until two weeks prior. I was more of a Sheena Easton kind of girl, though that remained safely in the vault once I found out Alice believed Sheena to be "so one note."

"Madonna's like your long lost big sister or something," I added carefully.

"I know, right?" Her expression was serious, even somber. "We may even look a little bit alike."

Alice didn't look a thing like Madonna. As I tried to frantically find a way to agree with her without out right lying, she spared me.

"Like a Virgin. Hey. Touched for the very first time…" Alice burst out at the top of her lungs, while slinking across my bedroom floor on her knees, in much the same way her idol did in the music video. My heart sped up wildly in my chest, knowing if my mom heard her singing that, or saw her moving like that, we'd _both_ be in trouble.

"Like a Vir-ir-ir-ir-gin. With your heart beat, next to mine." She was completely off key and the way in which she attempted to sound exactly like Madonna in intonation and inflection was laughable.

"So, Alice," I said loudly, awkwardly so, "are you excited about Epcot Center?"

She abruptly stopped singing and sat up on her knees at attention. "You have _no_ idea. We're staying at this posh hotel called the Polynesian. It has its own beach and I know there will be some major foxes there. My sister says…" Alice seamlessly shifted from a poor rendition of a song she had no business singing, into a rant about her upcoming vacation to Disney.

That was one thing about her, she was easily distracted. Come to think of it, I spent a lot of my time skillfully distracting her. This was a necessary component of our friendship because I didn't want us to get in trouble, and lots of things Alice said and did were grounds for major trouble in my house. To be forbidden from hanging out with this creature who single handedly injected Technicolor into my black and white days simply wasn't an option. Certainly, even in my young naiveté I was pretty sure she was a bad influence on me. I knew it. My parents probably sensed it and Edward was privy to it for sure, as he was sure to let me know anytime I saw him.

I met up with him one night under Our Tree after Alice had gone home. It was a beautiful breezy summer night with a just right temperature. I was still on a high from the frenetic energy Alice always generated in me, and I wanted nothing more than to listen to the sounds of evening around me and feel the breeze on my skin. In other words, I needed to come down.

"You're different," Edward said bluntly, almost immediately after I sat down next to him. So much for hoping to decompress a little.

"How would you know?" I replied just as tersely, pulling my knees in toward my chest. The moonlight was our only illumination, but it provided enough light for me to see Edward's lips set in a tight thin line.

"Oh, I don't know," He continued on in a very disparaging tone. "Maybe it's the neon pink fingernails and the fifty thousand rubber bracelets on your arm. Or could it be the cut up _Frankie Says Relax_ t-shirt that gives it away?"

"Like it or not, Edward, _I'm a girl_." Feeling suddenly quite self-conscious, I played with the bracelets on my arm that only numbered fifteen and not fifty thousand. I wondered if cutting up my tee under Alice's insistence had been a stupid idea.

"Like I didn't know that." He rolled his eyes. "You just never acted like one before. You're weird now."

"Am not."

"Are too. And so is Alice. She's changed you."

"She has not," I huffed, defending my friend, while inwardly wondering if his accusation carried any weight. "You're just jealous I have a friend besides you, and for the first summer_ ever_ I'm not all caught up in what you and the six other dwarfs are doing."

"I'm _not _jealous," he said coolly, his eyes narrowed.

"Are too."

"Am _not,_" he insisted. "Besides, it's a free country and you can do whatever you want."

"I know I can and I_ am_." I jutted my jaw out and crossed my arms in front of me in a very pronounced motion.

He exhaled loudly, looking away in the opposite direction. I did the same. We sat there in a tense silence for several minutes. The only sounds in the air were intermittent crickets chirping, the rustling leaves in the wind, and our steady breathing that had become synchronized. Once I realized we were breathing in rhythm, I purposefully held my breath a couple of seconds, so we wouldn't be any longer.

I considered getting up and going inside, but something made me stay put, even in the uncomfortable quiet of a stalemate. More than anything, a crazy Alice-style summer had been a high, but truth be told I missed Edward. As much fun as Alice Brandon was, I was never fully myself around her. Rather, I played a part of whom I thought she might want me to be, allowing only slivers of the real Bella to shine through from time to time. So even if Edward and I were totally annoyed with one another that particular August evening, when I was with him I could be one hundred percent myself. And tension or not, that was a very good thing.

"I miss you guys, ya know," I said softly, unable to stay engaged in battle any longer. "But don't you think it's normal for me to finally have a friend that's a girl?"

"I dunno."

"I've always been the odd one out on this block, and even in school. Alice likes me and it feels nice."

He shrugged one shoulder and pursed his lips.

"Edward, I couldn't be one of the guys forever. The older we get, the creepier that is, right?"

His lip twitched up into a very transient, not even fully formed smile. He wasn't ready to give in. So I pressed on. "Alice is fun. I think you'd like her if you knew her better. If you'd give her a chance or something."

"Maybe," he conceded, while still refusing to look at me.

"And you know that no matter how much Alice and I hang out, you're still my best friend in the world?"

I saw his expression soften ever so slightly. Then he whispered, "I know."

His body that had been rigid and on alert comfortably melded into the tree trunk behind us. The line of his jaw relaxed just a bit. And though his monosyllabic reply was brief, it wasn't cruel. I was familiar enough with his voice and mannerisms to know he wasn't irritated with me anymore. My irritation had melted away as well.

Even so, neither of spoke again for another several minutes. This time the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was easy and serene; something I'd been accustomed to and even comforted by countless times before. The wind blew gently around us and as I let it tickle my senses I knew I had gotten what I initially went out there to find. Peace with my best friend.

"They're still fighting," Edward said, barely audibly several minutes later, breaking the long expanse of quiet. He looked down at the grass underneath us and plucked the blades one by one.

My stomach knotted up within me, knowing exactly what he was referring to. "How much?"

"Every night. They think I can't hear em." He turned to face me, and for the first time that evening I noticed how incredibly tired he looked. "But I can hear everything through the walls. I hear every word."

"I'm so sorry, Edward."

"They hate each other, Bells." His wistful green eyes were glassed over, and his full lips were down turned.

"It'll be okay, though." I meant for it to come out more confidently and convincingly. But the problem was that I wasn't confident or convinced myself.

"I used to think so. I thought it might be a rough patch or something. But now I can't remember a time when they didn't yell." His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and I knew he had started crying. I reached down to tie my shoestring, that wasn't really in need of being retied. He would have been mortified if I watched him cried.

I remember wanting so badly to say _the_ perfect thing; whatever it was that would make him stop crying. Whatever it was that would help him believe things _would_ be okay. Yet I was helpless and completely at a loss, as if someone was asking me to speak in a language I didn't know.

"I'll keep praying for you and for them," I finally whispered. "And I'll leave it open tonight. That way you won't have to listen to them if you don't feel like it."

He simply nodded. The stubborn cowlicks that adorned his head bobbed with each movement. I could see the soundless tears streaming down his cheeks. Seeing him cry like that made me cry. I understood better than anyone else that it took a lot for Edward Masen to shed actual tears.

He came to my open window later that night and quietly laid on my floor on the Strawberry Shortcake bedroll I'd put out for him. I feigned sleep as he got settled into the sleeping bag, hoping to make it less awkward for him, while making good on my promise by silently praying. I prayed that God would hear Edward's cries. And I prayed that Edward's folks would find a way to stop hating each other so much. My first prayer went up in a full confidence, as I knew God would comfort my friend. The second prayer, not so much.

As we lay there in the darkness of my room, I listened to Edward inhale and exhale. Eventually his breathing slowed and became shallow and I knew he'd found sleep. I was thankful for that, because while I might not know what to say or exactly how to make him feel better, I could provide him a place to land where the yelling and fighting couldn't reach him. A place where he might be able to fall asleep without those awful sounds serving as the soundtrack of his slumber.

When the first rays of morning sun pierced through my curtains and woke us the next day, he stood up and our eyes briefly connected. He looked more rested than he had the night before, but his features were still hardened with worry. A worry that didn't belong all over an eleven year old kid. Silently, he bent over, rolled up my sleeping bag and left my room through the window with a simple nod of his unruly head, followed by a quiet _Thanks, Bella_.

We repeated this same somber routine, unbeknownst to either of our parents, for the rest of that summer. It was three weeks of sharing a peaceful safe haven, where no words were required for Edward to know I understood. I never pressed him to talk, because I knew he would if he really needed to.

The floor of my room served as his second home until the day he no longer needed one...the day his dad moved out and never moved back in.

It was a heartbreaking day that is forever burned in my memory. Every kid has a moment at some point in their life when they realize that bad things happen and happy endings aren't guaranteed. His dad's moving day was that moment for both Edward and me.

From my kitchen window I watched him help his father load things into a trailer. A pit in my stomach and a bleak sense of apprehension overwhelmed me as the boxes piled up. I could only imagine how Edward must have felt moving armloads of his dad's very presence out of the house, one trip at a time.

Edward's shoulders were slumped as he carried loads back and forth, and his jaw was set and rigid. In moments when his hands were free, he would rake his hair, which was Edward's go-to expression of nerves and insecurity. And he seemed to be stopping every so often to catch a breath. His eyes would shut and his lips would quiver ever so slightly, as his chest rose and fell with intention. It was clear to me that my friend was stifling his tears. This was something he would become a master at for years to come.

As devastated as Edward was by the whole thing, I saw something else written all over his face as he watched his dad's fully loaded U-Haul pull out of the drive. What I saw there I hadn't expected to detect, but it gave me more hope for Edward than I'd had for him in ten long months, since Esme and William Masen for whatever reason could no longer get along as husband and wife. What I saw there made me believe that my prayers for my best friend had been answered, albeit not in the way I'd imagined.

What I saw on Edward's face was relief.

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**next up...it's back to present day**

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	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: this story will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)**

**In chtp. 4, we're back to the year 2000. Bella is still under The Tree, still enraptured by the photograph...**

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**Chapter Four---2000**

"Bella? Is that you, darling?"

It was officially dark but I couldn't pull myself away from Our Tree or the precious photograph I'd uncovered. I just laid there almost paralyzed, certain the moment I stood up, stopped looking at the image of Edward and me, and walked back to real life, the gnawing would come back. And then I'd have to figure out what to do about it.

I cleared my throat and sat up, straightening my hair nervously. "Yes, Ms. Masen. It's me."

I'd know Esme Masen's voice anywhere. I'd grown up with it and it had been a sound of comfort and familiarity to me over the years. And at the age of twenty-seven it still was.

"What in the world are you doing out here in the dark by yourself?" She crouched down beside me and I could see her well enough in the moonlight. She looked younger in the distortion of darkness. The lines on her face and the grey that had overtaken her caramel hair weren't visible. In that moment she could have been the version of herself from when Edward and I were in junior high.

"I was just relaxing and lost track of time," I lied, subtly hiding the photo I'd just spent an hour scrutinizing.

"Wouldn't be the first time you've done that. Wonder how many hours you and Edward logged in right in this very spot?"

She sat down next to me, several joints cracking loudly in the motion, and I noticed she still had on her work clothes. How very typical it was of her to work late; very late. She'd been putting in twelve to fifteen hour days for as long as I could remember.

She exhaled loudly and rolled her neck. "Oh, it feels nice to just sit."

I reached over and squeezed her hand impulsively. She squeezed mine back and her hand felt exactly the same as it always had. Soft, thin and bony.

"So Ms. Bella, how was your weekend get away with Mike?" Her voice was impish.

"We had a great time." I reflected on the weekend I'd just come home from that had unbeknownst to me ended up being my engagement weekend. "Mike took me to his folk's cabin in New Mexico and we read and ate and hiked. It was perfect really."

I shyly moved my left hand over toward her and tilted it up slightly. Even in the dark, the large diamond was easily visible. It caught the moonlight so beautifully it looked like a special effect.

"Oh," Esme gasped and drew her hand up to her mouth. "My sweet, sweet Bella girl. It's gorgeous!" Her voice wavered emotionally and I couldn't bear to glance at her face, knowing the expression there would match her voice. I couldn't take it.

She turned toward me and pulled me in for an embrace. It was warm and motherly and I leaned into her forcing the hug to last seconds longer than it likely would have. It was exactly what I needed.

She pulled away from me grabbing my hand to get a better look at my ring. "It may be dark out here, but I can see enough to know that is one _fancy_ ring." The word fancy danced on her lips in a very Southern drawl.

"I guess it is." I blushed a little while noticing the gnawing had returned.

I loved the ring. Who wouldn't love a ring from none other than Tiffany's? But it was quite fancy and certainly expensive, and though I would never admit it to another soul, the ring didn't suit me. I'd always pictured myself with something simple or vintage maybe. Wearing a two-carrot ring from a place like Tiffany's only made me feel like an imposter.

"Do you have a minute to spare?" She was grinning ear to ear and I could see the excitement in her eyes. "I have a bottle of red I've been saving and would love to open it in celebration of your upcoming nuptials!"

"That sounds nice, Ms. Masen." And it did. As strangely comforting as my reminiscing had been, I knew I couldn't let myself stay there. I was prone to melancholy, and had learned over time what it took for me to avoid all out depression.

"Super!" She grinned widely. "But before we crack open the vino, you have to promise me one thing."

"Okay?"

"If it's the last thing I do, I am going to break you of the whole Ms. Masen thing. Please call me Esme?"

"That I can do," I conceded, knowing full well I would likely slip up and revert to Ms. Masen before the night was through. Old habits die hard.

I hopped up, quickly and discreetly slipping the photo into my jeans pocket, and held out a hand to help Esme up. We walked arm in arm to her back door. Then she led me into her home, otherwise known as the house time forgot.

It was clean and kempt, but remained in décor _exactly_ as it had been since I was a little girl. Dusty mauve and Williamsburg blue, with lots of geese and country trinkets. When Esme had decorated her home years prior, everything she'd chosen had been trendy and up to date. But things changed drastically after Mr. Masen left her. She struggled financially, and I understood she couldn't afford to constantly keep up with trends in her home and her clothing. But I sensed in my gut there was more to it. Perhaps the lack of change reflected her approach to life in general. Other than the fact that she had gone back to school and secured herself a good career after the divorce, nothing much else had changed for her. She hadn't really moved on in any ways except those in which necessity forced her to. It made me sad, but I didn't look down on her. In so many ways, though it might not have been as obvious, I was very much in the same boat. _Freaking frozen in time_.

I sat down at her breakfast bar as she got down two glasses and began to open the wine bottle. I absentmindedly traced the dated pattern of the Formica on the countertop, remembering how Edward and I loved that we could spill stuff on it and it never showed.

"So Bella, tell me about the proposal. I want all the juicy details!" She filled the glasses. She looked so excited; so truly happy for me. In a fleeting thought I wondered how my own mother might have reacted to the news. But since that was a sad notion and I was supposed to be a happy newly engaged girl, I pushed it out of my head before it had a chance to sit and take root.

"Well," I bit my lip feeling the slightest bit awkward, "Mike made me go on a hike. I'd been engrossed in a book and I wasn't really in the mood to break away."

"Jane Austen again?"

"None other," I admitted sheepishly. "But I finally agreed to put my book down because but he was very adamant about taking this hike. Since that's so out of character for him I agreed to go. Long story short, he got down on one knee right at sunset and popped the question right there on a mountain top."

"Oh, how romantic!" She handed me my wine glass, grabbed hers and sat down on the stool next to me. She leaned toward me in anticipation of hearing more, as if we were two schoolgirls gabbing about boys. The harsh kitchen lighting illuminated her face and in it she looked so worn and aged. She was still beautiful to me, but seeing her like that made me wish we were still outside where the night sky camouflaged the wear and tear of the years.

"It was quite romantic and perfect and thoughtful," I admitted quietly. "Pretty much everything that Mike is."

I felt so utterly guilty as I contemplated everything my fiancé was. That despite his character and how he loved me so completely, I still had that unsettling churning in my gut at the idea of being his bride.

"So did you set a date?"

"We are thinking June. I wanted to be sure Alice could be there for it, so we had to plan around her due date."

"Oh, that's right. And I assume Alice was thrilled with the news?" She smiled, knowing all too well how positively frenetic my best friend's energy could be.

"You have _no_ idea." I took a big sip of the wine. It tasted good but as it hit my stomach it burned. I closed my eyes and winced in a way I hoped had been imperceptible.

Apparently it wasn't. Esme's eyebrows knit together as she inspected my face. "What is it, Bella?"

"Just a queasy stomach or something. It's no big deal." I took another sip just to prove my point. "I'm just a little _off _tonight I think."

Her face was tender but her green eyes were intense on mine, "I can sense you're off. You' seem a million miles away right now. I know you aren't a super excitable kind of girl in general but you're definitely not acting like someone who just got engaged." She cocked her head to the side, and thoughtfully narrowed her eyes. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm not sure, Mrs. M," I whispered, looking down to avoid her gaze.

She used two fingers to tip my chin up, giving me no choice but to look at her. Just as I feared, she wore a knowing look as if she was already privy to what was going on in my head. I felt like I was ten years old again; small and vulnerable, and worst of all, completely transparent.

"Bella." Her voice was steady and maternal and I was drawn to it. Despite myself, I let my eyes connect with hers, and I was sure what she saw in them would tell her everything she needed to know.

She took the last swig of wine from her glass and turned to face me pulling her stool closer to mine so we were knee to knee. My bottom lip trembled and my eyes welled with tears. All I could do was take a deep shuddering breath and employ my nervous habit of biting my lip.

She took a deep breath too and paused briefly, "Your mother took care of Edward for me when I couldn't and I am fully aware that when it came time for me to return the favor, I dropped the ball."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she didn't let me finish. "I _need _to get this out. Please let me?"

I nodded my head and dropped my eyes.

"I was covered up in my own stuff_," _she continued resolutely,_ "_and I didn't advocate for you when I should've and I will go to my grave regretting that. But I have the chance to help you _now_; to speak some truth into your life, and I need your permission to do so." And with a little smirk and a sparkle in her eyes she finished with, "Though I'll likely say what I need to say whether you give me permission to or not."

I looked up at her and smiled despite my trepidation at the thought of hearing what she had to say; loving that she seemed more like the Esme Masen of my distant memory than she had in a long time. The woman that had a fire in her belly. "Go on."

"You need to go to him." She was resolute.

"Go to who?" I asked, as if I didn't know with one hundred percent certainty who she was talking about.

"Go to _Edward_." She played along with my unassuming act. "Go to Fort Worth, sit him down and get it sorted out once and for all. You _cannot_ take all that junk into your marriage with you. It's not fair to Mike and it's not fair to you."

"What do you mean by _sort it out_?" I air quoted to her, slightly annoyed that she could make something so utterly complex sound so easy.

"I mean get some closure. You will never move on with your life without it. Take it from someone who knows." She reached for the wine bottle, pulled out the stopper and refilled her glass with a bit of urgency. She topped mine off too.

Her words stung. I knew since her divorce she seem stranded to me and unable to make a new life for herself, but it never occurred to me that a lack of closure had anything to do with that.

"I don't really even know what closure is," I admitted. "Closure is a word they use in movies, not in real life."

"_Closure _is you shutting the book on you and Edward once and for all. Get him out of your system so that you can be engaged to a wonderful man who loves you deeply, without looking like you're facing a death sentence."

I buried my face in my hands to hide from her knowing eyes and ultimately from the truth she spoke. I hated that she was right. I hated that she could see through me so effortlessly, and I hated that Edward _was_ in my system. But to purge him from it would be like cutting off my own arm. I didn't know how to do it and I didn't know if I could take the pain of it if I ever could manage to do it.

"Bella, you and Edward need to lay it all out on the table. You've needed to for years now, and until you do there will always be unfinished business. Unfinished business that is holding you both back."

"So I just go to Fort Worth and disrupt his life? I'm sure he and Tanya would appreciate that."

"That's exactly what you do." She touched my cheek and looked into my eyes somberly. "I am his mother and I am telling you, _he_ needs the closure as much as you do. Do you understand what I am saying?"

I nodded my head, but what I wanted to say, or to yell really was, "_So what's between us is sabotaging his relationships too? So he can't fully love Tanya because a girl from his past possesses a huge part of his_ _heart and always will_?" It's what I was dying to say, but in saying it I would reveal too much about the condition of my heart, of which I was ultimately ashamed. After all, I considered the way I felt about her son to be a sickness of some kind, or maybe even a form of masochism.

"And what do I tell Mike? That I'm going to see the guy who up until a year ago I was sure was the love of my life? That I'm going to get some _closure_ so we can have a healthy marriage?" It was ludicrous for me to even consider having that conversation with Mike.

"You tell him what you need to tell him. Tell him the whole truth or just enough of it so he's not in the dark. I can't imagine it would surprise him, Bella. You wear your indecision on your sleeve and Mike is not a stupid man."

I just shook my head, knowing she was right yet again. My heart ached for Mike and how he must feel in even sensing an inkling of how unsettled I was. He'd put himself out there since the day I met him and what had I given him in return? I'd given him all I had to give, but it wasn't all of me and I knew it. My guess was he knew it too, and for reasons I couldn't fathom, he chose to be with me anyway.

"I am only asking you to consider it, Bells. I know it's not my business, but I am coming to you as a person who has lived a lot of life and has made even more mistakes. I am afraid if you don't do this, you will always live with regrets."

I rubbed my eyes and then massaged my temples hoping to alleviate the headache that had decided to accompany the gnawing. _Certainly not the picture of a newly engaged girl_. I thought sourly.

She leaned in once again and put her arm around my shoulder, pulling me in snuggly. "You're going to make it through this, Bella. Believe it or not, you will. But you need to do your part. One thing I've learned if I've learned anything, is that things like this don't just go away and they don't just fix themselves either."

"I'll think about it, Esme." My voice was quiet and calm, despite my inner turmoil. "I promise to."

"That's my girl."

"Thank you," I murmured quietly. "For the wine. And thank you for…for just _knowing_."

Her eyes found mine and I saw them swim with moisture. "I _do_ know, my Bella girl." She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

We finished our wine in a companionable silence. I found myself lost in thoughts about all my years with Edward, and what his presence in my life had meant to me. And I wondered if it was even possible to get closure with someone who was that inexplicably meshed with your very being.

When my lips felt tingly and my ears burned hot--both my personal tell-tale signs that I'd imbibed enough--I decided I was ready to go home. I wanted to sack out in my bed, where I could escape my screwed up reality for several hours. My head felt like it might explode from all the thoughts circling within it and I needed to escape those as well.

"My bed is calling, Esme," I yawned out.

As I stood up from my bar stool and leaned over to grab our empty wine glasses, the picture from my pocket floated down to the linoleum. As soon as I noticed it there, I bent down to retrieve it, but not before Esme saw it. I snatched it up, blushing a thousand shades of red and sloppily shoved it back in my pocket. Without saying a word, she simply stood up and pulled me into another hug; a tighter one, and she didn't let me go of me for a long, long while.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: this story will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)**

******E and B are 12 years old in this chapter. Square dancing day is a turning point for pre-pubescent Bella... :)**

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******Chapter 5: Promenade and Dosado (1986)**

I can picture the day perfectly. We all stood awkwardly in the middle of our school gymateria. At twelve years old, most of us girls were tall and chunky, our bodies trying to figure out their place in a thing called puberty. Most of the boys, on the flipside, were short and skinny, their bodies not yet acquainted with burgeoning adolescence.

We were lined up boy girl, boy girl. We all stood there trying to look at ease, because of paramount importance was appearing as though you had not a care in the world; that you were way too cool to be worried about anything. When in fact the truth was we all dreaded what was about to happen and only hoped the anxiety within didn't show its ugly face to the outside world.

It was square dancing day in P.E., and we were about to be told who we'd be partnered with for the day. This particular day of the year was an enigma of sorts. While it was rued by all, it was also secretly a bit exhilarating. Square dance day offered that rare chance to have actual skin-to-skin contact with the opposite sex. This was a frightening yet intriguing prospect.

Ms. Jackson yelled out her instructions, which amounted to each boy finding a female partner once she blew her whistle. At the shrill sound of said whistle there was a loud corporate exhalation and immediately the room became a blur of Member's Only Jackets, parachute pants and legwarmers. After a few confusing and stressful minutes everyone was paired up. That is, except poor Tyler Crowley, who was the odd man out that day and had to be Ms. Jackson's partner. The ultimate kiss of death for any twelve year old boy.

I myself was relieved. When Ms. Jackson had given the boys the go, Edward had immediately turned toward me and caught my eye, signaling with his hands that he wanted me to be his partner.

_Thank you, God_.

I had worried about square dance day all week and had not so subtly mentioned my worries to Edward at least sixteen times. I should have just come out and asked him to choose me, but my pride wouldn't allow me to do so. So instead, I dropped hints his way and spent every free minute fixated on the fact that I just knew I'd be the last girl picked if I got picked at all.

I was in my "mouth full of braces and bad perm stage," which equaled zero self-confidence. If I could have literally blended into the walls around me I would have opted for that nine days out of ten. So even the thought of standing in a line passively waiting to be chosen as someone's partner was enough to put me over the edge. In fact, I had woken up "achy and feverish" that morning. My all-knowing mother hadn't bought it for a minute, marching me out the front door with lead feet toward my certain death.

When Edward came through for me and picked me I let out an audible sigh of relief. In my estimation it was the nicest thing he'd done for me in our entire twelve years of friendship, and it came at no small sacrifice to him. Choosing me meant he was passing up a chance to touch Jennifer M., his long time but only from afar, object of adoration.

He grabbed my hand and put his free arm around my waist and we listened intently to the square dance caller's voice coming from the record player. We attempted to promenade, dosado and bow to our partner without stepping on each other's toes. I looked around me and everybody's feet, which of course were covered by brightly colored Converse High Tops, looked really big and out of control. Not to mention slightly dangerous.

At one point as we rounded the corner in promenade, Edward and I almost collided with Alice and her partner, Seth. In my anxieties, I had all but forgotten about Alice. It wasn't until our near miss that I realized she hadn't gotten to dance with any of the boys on her short list. Even so, she looked absolutely blissful, and she and Seth could totally cut a rug. As was easily predicted, he became Alice's obsession after the dancing ended, and it lasted a full four days.

Edward and I, in all our clumsiness laughed a lot that day. I was so grateful to have him of all boys, at my side. But something felt distinctly different between us that I couldn't put my finger on. The entire time we danced together I was oddly conscious of him: his smell, his voice, and how his emerald eyes disappeared when he got to laughing really hard. The strangest thing of all was the zap of electricity that pulsed through my entire body at the touch of his hand. I'd touched that hand a million times in my short life, never feeling that weird zap. But I _liked_ that weird new zap. I wanted to feel it again and again.

_What in the world?_

Then Ms. Jackson abruptly stopped the music, making that annoying scratching sound as the needle skipped the record. She told every girl to move forward one step to dance with a new partner. I panicked and squeezed Edward's hand as I looked at him in sheer horror.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "it's only Jay Jenks. He's harmless."

And with that I took my step forward, which felt more like a plunge, to my new partner. I plastered a big metal smile on my face, but inside I was a bumbling, nervous wreck who couldn't even think of one word to say.

I had erroneously assumed Edward and I would dance together the entire hour, so Ms. Jacksons's curve ball threw me for a loop. Which was probably why I was intimidated by a boy who was approximately 4 inches shorter than me, and who for some reason wore the same Pittsburg Steelers t-shirt everyday.

I placed my sweaty hand in Jay's sweaty hand, and we stood in position waiting for the next song. I looked back and realized that Edward was now partnered with Jennifer. Not Jennifer A., Jennifer H. or Jennifer P., but _the _Jennifer M. My first instinct was to be happy for him. Yet the wave of envy that crashed over me washed that goodwill right away. My raging jealously took me completely off guard, showing up unannounced like that and all.

I felt nauseous when I looked at Edward and Jennifer together. They looked great side by side, as if they belonged together for all time. He was smiling his crooked smile that l knew so well. The same one that he had smiled for me so many times. There was a pink flush to his cheeks and a brightness in his eyes. His bronze hair was slightly tousled, like it always was. I found myself wishing I could run my fingers through it to fix it.

_Ew, Bella, stop it._

Jennifer looked pretty and perfect as always. She was confident and secure in herself. Especially in this situation, she seemed to be a lot older than the rest of us. She just had that way about her; always had and always would. I suddenly despised her for it. I guess she noticed me noticing her, or despising her as it were, and she caught me in her gaze. I swear her eyes narrowed slightly as she snuggled in closer to Edward.

The awful hoe down music started back up, alerting me to the reality of square dance hell and before I knew it Jay was pulling me along in a promenade. It took every bit of concentration I had to keep up with him, partially because he had a shockingly quick stride for a little guy, and partially because my mind kept wandering to the couple behind us.

I couldn't have been more confused than I was in that very moment of time. I didn't understand the feelings inside me. My newfound awareness of Edward made me warm all over, almost like I had a fever, but in a pleasing way. That only made me feel creepy and guilty. I was flustered and stirred up by the boy I'd shared a crib with for naps. The same boy I treated like a pesky brother for twelve years. The very boy I wrestled with in my living room not a month ago, with not even a semblance of warm sensations, strange zaps, or weird disturbing feelings all over.

Since when did I care who Edward danced with? Why was my stomach invaded by butterflies at the thought of him? Why did my heart feel like it could burst out of my chest when I considered those soft green eyes?

So strong and almost violent were these unexpected emotions, I feared they were literally visible to the rest of the world. I wanted nothing more than to run away so I could hide. This wasn't a feasible option, so I had to suck it up and get through the rest of the day. That is, if I lived through what could only be called "Square Dancing Gone Bad" starring Jay Jenks.

That afternoon at the three o'clock bell I raced out of the doors of our school, making sure that I wouldn't have to walk home with Edward. I knew he wouldn't make anything of it, because sometimes I hurried home when I knew my Teen magazine was coming in the mail.

I just couldn't face him. He knew me better then anyone on the planet, and would for sure notice the change in me. I would have rather square danced for eternity with Jay than have Edward see through me and know my vile thoughts.

I holed up in my room all afternoon trying to make sense of the emotional roller coaster I was on. When Alice called for our daily post-school debriefing session, I pretended that I couldn't talk. I felt defective and foolish and in my shame I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. There was no way I could admit to her, or anyone else for that matter, what was going on.

I heard a tap on my door and knew my mom was on the other side.

"Come in," I yelled, figuring to feign sleep would be futile when it came to my mother who for all practical purposes was omniscient. She walked into my room looking the way she did everyday. Donning a floral apron, one of many she had sewn herself, and gold lamiae house shoes, she stepped into my room with a glass of iced tea perched in one hand.

"Darling, you okay?" she asked, bringing the glass to her shiny glossed lips.

"I'm fine," I answered all too quickly and curtly.

"I can tell you're not fine," she sniffed. "I can see it in your eyes and you didn't even come out for your customary after school fruit roll up and Tab. Did something happen today at school?"

"I'm fine, mom."

"You're fine, huh." Her perceptive eyes pierced through me, letting me know that just like that morning, she wasn't buying what I was selling.

"Just had a hard day. That's all."

"Turn around." She placed her iced tea on my side table, sat down on my bed next to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. She began to rub on the knots at either side of my neck. "You hold yours in the same place I do."

"Hold what?"

"Your stress," she said in a soothing voice. "Can you feel the knots disappearing as I rub?"

"Yeah, I guess I can. It kind of hurts, but in a good way."

"I love a good neck rub. Your dad gives me one from time to time and it puts me right to sleep. Out like a light."

I leaned back into my mom and enjoyed the softness of her touch. I could smell her signature scent, Le Jardin perfume mixed with Avon's Hands So Soft Lotion. That's all it took for me to let my guard down

"Mom, its Edward. That's what I'm upset about," I blurted out.

For all practical purposes, when it came to my mother, I was an easy mark. It took her all of under two minutes to get me to spill the beans, and she hadn't done an ounce of coercing. In that regard, mom was rather ninja like really...an emotional ninja.

"What are you two bickering about this time?" she asked quietly, not even attempting to mask the amusement in her voice.

"We aren't fighting." I took a deep breath and turned toward her. "It's just that something happened today that never has before and I feel sick over it."

"Okay. Go on."

I stammered a bit and then everything, every private feeling, starting rolling off my tongue. "I'm having certain feelings toward him that I don't want to have. It's like all the sudden to look at him feels the same way it does when I look at my Scott Baio or Ricky Schroeder posters."

"I see," she said with a tiny smile pursed on her lips.

"I don't know why I am feeling this way and I hate it. But when I saw him square-dancing with Jennifer M. today, it's like I went totally nutso jealous! Have you ever heard of anything so awful and stupid?" I cried.

Mom gently grabbed my hand and lowered her head so I was forced to look into her big brown eyes. "Honey, I've always wondered when this would happen. It was practically inevitable."

"What?" I said incredulously with my mouth agape.

"You and Edward have been attached at the hip since birth. It is no surprise to me that you have strong feelings for him. You are becoming a young woman, and the hormonal changes going on in your body bring on changes in your emotions, and your…"

"_Mom_!" I cut her off before she could go on. "We had that talk last year and I really don't need a refresher course on it!"

I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it, remembering how mom had brought a small chalkboard into my room so she could actually draw a female's ovaries and uterus, and show me how the menstrual cycle happened each month.

"Honey, I am not trying to embarrass you here. I just want you to know that what you are feeling is normal and you shouldn't be ashamed or even scared of it."

"Well, what do I _do _about it? I can't even look Edward in the face now! Everything's ruined. And seeing that his bedroom window is like ten feet from mine, avoiding him isn't really an option!"

"Nothing's ruined, and you mustn't avoid your best friend either."

"Mom, this is an impossible situation. The only thing I _can_ do is avoid him." I threw myself forcefully onto my bed and cried with the dramatic flair only a preteen can muster. "Life as I know it is totally over!"

She let me wallow in the drama of it all for several minutes, but then I heard her voice, gentle yet firm. "Bella Marie, do you want to hear my take on this?"

I sat back up. I was going to hear her take whether I wanted to or not, that much was sure. "Yes, but only if it doesn't involve a lesson on hormones and puberty."

"Fair enough," my mom replied diplomatically. "I say this only because I've been an almost-teenager before myself and I know a few things about it. But I think your feelings for Edward and other boys at that, will likely be erratic."

I wrinkled my nose at her choice of word, not knowing what she meant.

"Up and down I mean," she clarified. "At twelve years old, feelings are all over the place. They come and go _a lot_, but what won't come and go is your friendship with Edward. He has had a very tough time with the divorce and all. The last thing he needs is for his very best friend to pull away from him."

"I know." I was ashamed to have considered forsaking our friendship.

"Besides," my mom added with her eyebrows arched, "believe it or not, you may even wake up tomorrow and find yourself completely disinterested in him once again."

"Seriously?"

"It's certainly a possibility. Just wait this thing out and give it some time."

"I-I can do that." Optimism was creeping its way back into the picture now that I saw a glimmer of hope. "But what if he can see through me? I'll die. I'll absolutely die if he figures out things have changed."

My mom placed her hand on my cheek. "Sweetie, another thing I've learned over the years is that the opposite sex, including your own father, can be very dense. It's likely you would have to literally spell it out for him to know what was going on inside you."

"You think?"

"I don't think." She winked at me--her chocolate eyes sparkling in what I figured must be love for me. "I _know_."

Something about her face and the expression there, made me smile for the first time since my new weird feelings for Edward immerged. Her air of complete confidence in what she was saying melted my stress away, just as her hands had caused the knots in my neck to seemingly dissolve.

I was at that precarious age at which I wanted to be grown up, or to at least act grown up. Yet despite that, I impulsively wrapped my arms around my mom's neck and squeezed her tightly, only letting her go once I'd buried my nose in her soft, sweet smelling neck.

"Bells, why don't you come downstairs? Dinner is almost ready. I made your favorite," She said, as she caressed my cheek and then gently touched the tip of my nose with her finger.

"Mom," I said, ignoring her request, "you won't tell anyone what we talked about, right? Not Edward's mom. Not even dad."

"Your secret's safe with me." She pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. She rose form my bed and grabbed her tea as she headed out of my room. "And Bella."

"Yeah, mom?"

"I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too." I smiled, feeling a wave of affection for her. "I'll be down in a minute," I added quietly.

Fifteen minutes later I was seated at the kitchen table eating fried chicken with none other than Edward in the chair next to me, just as he was most evenings when his mom was at night school. To my absolute shock, it wasn't awkward and he didn't seem to perceive in the slightest, the huge shift that had taken place in my heart. He was the same old Edward and I managed to act like the same old Bella. Granted I could barely eat and I found myself studying his lips and his jaw as he chewed, but he was none the wiser. I could live with that arrangement.

My mom had been right about him being dense I guess. Or maybe I just didn't wear my heart on my sleeve as grandiosely as I imagined I did. What my mom wasn't so right about however, was me waking up the next day, or even the day after that, or really any day thereafter and not having those weird feelings for Edward any longer.

Certainly the intensity or even importance of those feelings waxed and waned, but one thing remained steady and certain. On square dance day in my sixth grade year I saw Edward Masen in a new and unanticipated way. After that day, there was a piece of my heart; probably bigger than I even knew, reserved for him alone. It was his whether he knew it or not, or whether he wanted it or not. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could about it.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note**: **this chapter takes place in 7th grade. B and E are 13. so far the flashback chapters have been light and hopefully at least a bit humorous. but i also hope they are laying the foundation for B and E's relationship.**

* * *

**Chapter Six---A.K.A. Crimson Wave (1987)**

"Just take several deep breaths. We'll figure something out." Alice sat with me in the east Annex bathroom of Sam Houston Junior High during the lowest moment of all my thirteen years.

"I want to die, Alice. Absolutely die." I was beyond embarrassed, holed up in a stall as if in some kind of military bunker, with the door shut and locked. Alice stood just outside of the stall, the toes of her lemon yellow Keds, showing beneath the door.

"It barely shows, Bella. Besides, you're not the first girl to be surprised by the crimson wave," Alice practically yelled so as to be heard through the avocado green metal door.

"I'm opening the door, so move out of the way," I warned her before I swung it open. I remained safely hunkered down in my stall, but it felt better to actually be able to see my friend. "Crimson wave?"

"Yes. Crimson Wave. Aunt Flo. On the rag. Now that you're finally a woman like the rest of us, you'll need to know all the code names for it."

I exhaled deeply and smoothed my ultra frizzy permed hair with my hands. I looked down at my white sweat pants and rued the fact that of all days, I chose that day to wear something that would showcase a red stain so dramatically.

"I know girls get surprised by Aunt Flo everyday, but do they get their first period _ever _during algebra, on the day they have to go in front of the class to work a problem on the board?"

"I don't think everyone saw," Alice added diplomatically. "I barely even noticed and I'm your BFF."

"You didn't notice only because you were busy passing notes to Sam Uley. Anyone who was actually paying attention had to have noticed."

"Well, my sources say there hasn't been much talk of it around the halls," Alice said, sounding like a seasoned gossip columnist.

"Since when do you have sources?"

"Since the Phillips twins and I bonded over our shared love for _thirtysomething's_ Ken Olin."

"I still think that's a weird crush, Alice."

"So I like older men. Shoot me."

"Maybe your _sources_ say there isn't any talk," I moaned, as my stomach churned uneasily within me. "But I still I feel like the laughing stock of the school."

I felt like that most days anyway, even without some dramatic event taking place. For me, seventh grade was one big disaster. I was a sweaty oily mess with a slightly chubby body, which was only accentuated by the stirrup pants I wore three times a week in an effort to be trendy. I was overly intimidated by the older students, especially the ninth grade girls who had outgrown their chunky phase and looked more like women than girls. My confidence waxed and waned by the hour and my decision-making skills were for the birds. I worried about being popular. I worried about wearing the right brand of jeans. I fretted over my weight, my braces and my glasses. And if I wasn't worried about those things, I was worried because I wasn't worried.

"Look at it this way, Bella. Even if you are the laughing stock today, tomorrow someone else will be." Alice slathered glittery pink lip-gloss on her already thoroughly glossed lips as she spoke. "Just yesterday, John Potts fell down the stairs in front of the cheerleaders. He's probably thanking you for taking the spotlight off him."

"Who cares about John Potts?" I whined. "Alice, could you put the lip gloss down and help me figure out what I am going to do?"

I'd gotten a Kotex pad, which Alice called a Barbie mattress, from the nurse. That took care of the immediate problem. And I'd tried to call my mom to bring me some new pants. I couldn't get a hold of her or my dad after three tries, so the nurse told me to go to lunch and come back and try them again later.

The nurse, who looked like Sally Struthers from _All in the Family,_ obviously wasn't too concerned with my self-esteem. Couldn't she have offered me some chamomile tea and let me sit with her in her office until the end of the day, if need be?

So after Nurse Compassion kicked me to the curb, I ran to the least frequently visited of bathrooms in the whole building and camped out in a tiny, antiseptic smelling stall. I sat there almost paralyzed in a crouched position on the floor and prayed my mom would someone sense I needed pants and bring them to me.

"You could tie a jacket around your waist!" My well-meaning friend burst out with what she thought was the best idea since sliced bread.

"Already thought of that," I said through my teeth, frustrated. "I don't have a jacket. No one does because it's a comfortable 75 degrees today."

"Oh. Hmmm. Well I don't know then. Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Wanna go to the cafeteria and grab some Funyons?"

"Alice, I _can't_. Remember the stain?" My patience was wearing thin for my best friend who tried not to be, but just couldn't help but be self-centered.

"Oh yeah," she smiled apologetically. "How about I get something for the both of us? I'll be back in a jiff." She stopped by the mirror and flashed a big smile at herself, which prompted her to rub her forefinger across her front teeth. "You want the usual?"

I nodded my head in agreement as tears welled up in my eyes.

"When I get back, we'll figure out what to do." She raised her heavily lined eyes to the wall clock above us, "After all, we have twenty whole minutes."

"Okay," I whispered, wiping my tears with the back of my hand, hoping not to mess up _my_ heavily lined eyes.

I got a pit in my stomach when I considered that twenty minutes was all I had until the next bell. Twenty minutes was no time at all. I knew this because that very morning I had woken up late and had only twenty minutes to get ready for school. Consequently, my wall of bangs, which required painstaking teasing was only half as tall and half as shellacked as usual.

As I sat there alone in the empty bathroom I wished for many things that I knew would not come true. I wished to disappear, or better yet to somehow suddenly possess the ability to turn back time. If only I'd not worn the white pants. If only my first period ever had arrived that morning in the safety of my own home. If only my mom had been there when I called to be bring me back up pants. If only I wasn't such an awkward mess of a girl in the first place.

Despite my worries about ruining my blue eyeliner, the tears came like a gully washer. They turned into sobs and eventually became the deep, soundless kind.

"Bells, you in there?" A voice echoed and bounced off the tile walls. "It's Edward and I'm out here in the hall."

"Just go away." I called out, hoping my voice didn't give away what a wreck I was. "I'm fine."

My voice echoed loudly through the bathroom bouncing off the tiled walls, prompting me to exit my stall and move closer to him so I could speak more quietly. The last thing I wanted to do was broadcast my woes through the hallway, even if it was a virtually vacated annex.

"You're hiding in a bathroom and won't come out." He sounded frustrated and he spoke slowly and loudly, as if trying to communicate with a foreigner. "Clearly you aren't fine."

I made my way closer to the entrance of the bathroom and slid down the wall to a sitting position. Edward was just on the other side of the wall from me. He was close enough that I could easily hear him, but he wasn't in my line of sight and vice versa.

"What's it to you, Edward? And by the way, you don't have to yell. I'm just on the other side of the wall."

"Oh." This time, to my relief, he spoke in a normal volume and cadence. "I'm here because I heard about what happened."

"Great. So it's already all over school?"

"Not so much. Jessica told me. She's in your algebra class."

"Like I don't know that," I snapped.

I wasn't thrilled to know I was already being talked about. But what I hated even more was that Edward had heard about my crisis from Jessica Stanley of all people. Jessica was a popular, non-oily, non-chubby, perfectly perfect seventh grader who had her sights set on Edward. My Edward.

"She wasn't making fun of you," he replied defensively. "She felt bad for you."

"Whatever," I said acerbically, finding it hard to believe that Jessica wasn't enjoying my present misery. What seventh grade girl wouldn't enjoy another seventh grade girl's public humiliation?

"Just come out and talk to me Bella, because I can't really come in there."

"I'm waiting on Alice to bring me some lunch. Just go away Edward." I sounded like a defiant three-year old. I knew it and I didn't care.

"Alice is in the cafeteria with Sam. I have a bag of Funyons and a Mountain Dew for you. Just come out and get them. There's no one around. I promise."

"Nice of Alice to care so much about me."

"In her defense, she was headed this way until I intercepted her. I just wanted to come check on you. See if I could help."

"Any chance your mom's at home?"

"Let's see. Between her two jobs and night school, I'd say the odds are, no."

"Then you aren't really any help to me. But thanks for checking on me anyway." My voice was cold, and it didn't sound like me even to me. "Go on back to Jessica and the rest of the cool crowd. Wouldn't want your rep to be tarnished as a result of hanging out with a joke like me."

"Bella, you are so dramatic. Just get out here."

"Not gonna happen, Edward."

"I have something for you."

"Doesn't matter."

"Just give me five minutes."

I didn't answer him.

"Come _on_, Bells. Don't make me come in there."

"Fine. You have five minutes, and then I just want to be left alone. And for the record, I am _not_ dramatic."

"Fine. Whatever you say." I could tell he was suppressing laughter.

I edged my way into the hall, immediately sitting down next to Edward on the cold lime green tile, hoping he wouldn't get a look at the back of my pants.

He scanned my face with his eyes and gave me a tender smile, presumably having noticed my tear stained cheeks, and the blue mascara I was certain was everywhere except where it was supposed to be.

Feeling disarmed by his kind countenance, I smiled back briefly and breathed out. "Hey."

Up to that point I'd treated him like an enemy, almost like he had something to do with my public humiliation. Obviously I knew he had nothing to do with it, but I felt like being angry with him anyway.

Truth was, Edward was a big hit at Sam Houston Junior High, and I was all but socially nonexistent. I was a bit jealous of him for sure, but mostly I just felt left behind. My crisis was just an easy excuse to take out a lot of built up frustrations on him. Yet sitting there face to face with him, it was like I suddenly remembered who he was and who he had always been to me. My hard veneer began to soften on contact.

"Hard day, huh?" he said quietly.

"You have no idea. I'm thinking about transferring to Preston."

"Like I said, dramatic."

"I'm just really frustrated. My social life is already hopeless. Like I needed anything to make it worse."

"Aw, you'll get through this. Jessica says the same thing happened to her big sister a few years ago. She lived through it."

"Enough about Jessica, okay?"

"What did she ever do to you?"

"She_ exists_, Edward. That's what she did."

He blinked a few times, looking thoroughly confused. His cluelessness only irritated me.

"Look Bella, no one will even remember it happened five days from now."

"Easy for you to say. You never embarrass yourself."

"Whatever. Remember two years ago when I had that bad stomach virus and I pooped in my pants during science. Surely you remember that, seeing as though you couldn't stop laughing about it and you coined the phrase Edward _swissed in his pants_?"

I giggled, finding it strange to laugh in such a time of crisis. "Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that!"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, "Exactly my point, Bella. If you can forget about that, people will surely forget about your, uh…" he waved his hand over the lower half of my body, "situation."

He bumped my shoulder with his, and I bumped him back.

"So you said you have something for me?" I asked him while picking at the neon green fingernail polish peeling off of seven of my ten digits.

"Here." He handed over my Funyons and Mountain Dew, otherwise known as lunch, and then he pulled his Jansport onto his lap. I watched him unzip it. He bit his lip and scrunched up his nose as he came to a finicky portion of the zipper. The same way he bit his lip and scrunched his nose when he played _Galaga,_ when he rode his skateboard, and when he was doing any kind of mathematical calculation.

He was adorable to me in that moment. He actually beyond adorable as he fiddled with the zipper. So adorable I almost forgot my troubles. Almost.

"So it smells like foot because it's been in my P.E. locker since winter," he said as he pulled out a grey _Empire Strikes Back_ sweatshirt from the bag. "I thought I had some sweat bottoms, but I couldn't find them. Maybe you could use this to cover up…you know?"

Stunned, I took the balled up sweatshirt from him. The tears returned to my eyes in a sudden rush. "Thanks," I whispered. "I'll get this back to you after school."

"No worries. I'll get it from you when I get back from Midland."

"_Oh yeah_, it's your first weekend there."

"Yep. Get to see his new house _and_ hang out with his girlfriend." Edward subtly winced as he said it.

He tried to act nonchalant about it, but I knew how upset he was about this woman named Fran that his dad was smitten with.

"Maybe you'll like her this time?" I tried to come off optimistically.

"Or maybe I'll just stay in my room, that Fran decorated in fire trucks of all things, and play Atari all weekend," he muttered under his breath.

"Fire trucks? Are you serious?"

"Dead."

"Oh, Edward."

He exhaled loudly, and sort of banged his head on the wall behind us.

"Bells, will you check on my mom while I'm gone?"

"Sure I will. But she's used to you being away on weekends by now."

"That was before dad moved two hours away." His eyes looked dark and troubled. "I can tell she's really nervous about me being in a different city and all."

I figured he was just as nervous as she was, but would never in a million years admit it. Instead, he'd plaster on a brave face and act like everything was just peachy. This is exactly what he'd done for the past three years when it came to anything related to his parent's split.

"I'll definitely check on her. And I'm sure my mom will invite her over to eat with us."

"Thanks, Bella." He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times and then shoved his fingernail into his mouth.

He sat still and chewed on that fingernail mindlessly. I could see the wheels turning in his head and he had a faraway look in his eyes. He would have worn the same face had he been riveted to something on television that he couldn't be bothered to peel his eyes from. Then several seconds later, his entire expression changed on a dime, and the darkness that veiled his eyes appeared to lift.

"So," his focus shifted back to me, "will you be okay for the rest of the day?"

He was clearly done thinking about leaving his mom and hanging out with Fran, an aerobics instructor known as the Jane Fonda of West Texas. I was tempted to make him talk about it some more, but I knew better. There was no pushing Edward on such things. When he was done, he was done. And he was.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I stood up and tied his sweatshirt strategically around my waist. "Thanks to you, Han, Luke and Yoda."

"So you gonna hide out in the bathroom until next period?"

"Nice word choice," I replied flatly.

"You know what I meant." The corner of his mouth twitched up in the beginning of a smile that he didn't finish.

"Yes, I'm going to _remain_ in this bathroom until my next class starts." I was hoping to sound mature. "And for the record, I am not hiding. I am just gathering my thoughts."

"Whatever you say." He stood up and heaved his backpack on his bony shoulders. "Meet me under Our Tree Sunday afternoon?"

"Sure. I'll be there. Can't wait to hear all about your new room." I grinned.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, but I could see the amusement on his face.

"And Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell your dad I said hi. I hope it goes better than you think it will. I really do."

He gave me a smile, a very small crooked smile, then turned on his heels toward the cafeteria. I watched him walk down the corridor with his Edward-swagger. It was a mix of athleticism and nonchalance. He'd always walked that way, but as we got older it became more pronounced. I would've known that gait from a mile away, and as far as I was concerned it was exactly how a boy should walk.

Once he was out of site, I pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt to my nose and breathed it in. It didn't smell like foot. To me it just smelled like Edward. I never returned it to him either, partly because he never asked for it back and partly because I became accustomed to sleeping with it under my pillow. It all my stalker-like glory, it was a piece of Edward I could call my own no matter what.

As for my crimson crisis, I wore the sweatshirt around my waist for the rest of the day. I'm pretty sure I wasn't fooling anyone, but luckily just as predicted, something else happened that trumped my drama. Later that same day, Leah Clearwater threw up all over her partner during a show choir performance in front of the whole school.

To this day, I'll never forget it. There were jazz hands, plastered smiles, sequined cumber bunds and bow ties. Then in a split second, Leah paled and then hurled her lunch during the chorus of _I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet_.

I'll always be thankful to Leah, because thanks to a case of food poisoning, _my_ earth moved a lot less than it otherwise would have.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**Author's Note...I am astounded that there are actually people reading my story. SO thankful for those of you who put me on story alerts or favorites. I am also so stinking excited to say that I now have a beta...an awesome beta at that. So thanks to you, klarsen18!**

IN this chapter we find E and B in 9th grade.

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**Chapter Seven---Dateless, Not Defective (1989)**

"Alice, what is it? Why am I _defective_?"

I stood in my room in front of my full-length mirror examining the girl I saw there. I was fifteen and had grown into my body and no longer leaned toward the chunky side. My skin still had occasional breakouts, but I was able to conceal them pretty easily with makeup. My newly straightened teeth were no longer covered with metal and I'd learned how to coif my brown permed hair without producing the chronically frizzy mess I'd sported the two years prior.

I wasn't perfect by any stretch, not even close really. But in my estimation I wasn't that bad either, especially considering how far I'd come since those first days at Sam Houston Junior High.

"You aren't defective," Alice said thoughtfully, with a tilted head. She examined my look as if she didn't already have an opinion of it from five years of friendship. "You're just dateless. Dateless, not defective."

"Dateless to the biggest event of our ninth grade year."

I fell back on my bed dramatically and stared up at my Michael J. Fox photo shrine painstakingly taped to my ceiling. "Make that the biggest event of our whole junior high experience."

"You still have two days to miraculously get a date," She added, undoubtedly trying to sound optimistic.

"Alice, there are no more dates to be had! Just call me Bella Swan, social pariah."

I flipped over on my stomach and buried my head in my favorite pillow. The one with the pillowcase that everyone at your slumber party signs with a special fabric marker.

"What did I ever do to become the class reject anyway?" I moaned woefully into my pillow.

"You aren't a reject, Bella. But if you really want to know why you are dateless, I'll tell you," Alice said seriously. It was uncharacteristically somber of her actually, and it made me feel instantly anxious.

I flipped back over and sat up at attention, using my pillow to brace my stomach. "You mean you actually know?"

"Let's just say I have a theory."

"It's because I work in the main office during 3rd period isn't it? People think I'm a suck up nerd, right?"

"You _are_ a suck up nerd, but that's not the reason." She winked at me playfully. Then she raised her overly plucked eyebrows. "I'll tell you my theory, but you have to promise not to be mad at me."

"I won't get mad, Alice."

"Swear on it."

"Fine, I swear I won't get mad. Just tell me!"

"Okay then." She stood up and began to pace the length of my room. "Let's just say there is a general confusion about you, if you will, among the boys at Sam Houston." Alice sounded and looked exactly like a trial attorney.

"Confusion?" My heart palpitated in my chest and I felt flushed all over. What did that mean? Did the boys think I was a lesbian?

Alice exhaled loudly as if it pained her to speak on the subject. I could see through the gesture however, because I knew she was deep into her thespian phase. She had employed the use of dramatic pauses, deep breaths and exaggerated facial expressions to punctuate her communication.

She sat down on my bed beside me, steepled her index fingers and looked at me over them. This was yet another very calculated theatrical move.

"The guys seem to think you like Edward. That you are_ with_ him."

"_With_ Edward?"

"Yes, _with_ Edward." Another dramatic pause. "You are constantly around him and it sends out the wrong message."

"The wrong message?"

"The completely wrong message."

"Whatever. That's ridiculous," I huffed indignantly. "It's obvious we are like brother and sister. Anyone can see that."

My mom was still the only other person on the planet who knew the truth about my feelings for Edward. Was I just fooling myself to think it was a safely concealed secret, while all the while the entire school and my incredibly flighty best friend could see right through me?

"But you know how it is." Alice looked over at me with her black-brown eyes opened wide. "You're seen with a guy more than twice and presto magic, everyone thinks you're a couple. You have to face it. Edward is single handedly _murdering_ your love life, and you're the only one that can do a thing about it."

"Meaning?"

"Back off from him. Get some space. Sever yourself from the conjoined twin, for goodness sake!"

"Gosh, Alice. Harsh much?"

"Just think about it, Bella. Edward has a different girlfriend every two weeks, and you've yet to have a boyfriend. He has a date to the dance, and you don't. Your arrangement with him is hurting no one but you. That's all I'm saying."

Her words slapped me in the face and left me speechless. I'm not sure what stung worse. The fact that Alice was spot on right, or the fact that I'd known the truth myself but was completely unwilling to do anything about it.

When it came to Edward, I'd gladly take scraps and leftovers. I'd gladly be the one he called only after he'd gotten off the phone with his girlfriend. I'd willingly be the one he'd meet up with under Our Tree only after he'd just played tonsil hockey with his flavor of the week. When it came to him I'd take what I could get, even if it meant being an afterthought sometimes. This is because I knew the Edward I got was the real Edward.

I got the boy who resented his dad and felt left behind and disregarded. I got the Edward who took on an early morning paper route so he could help his mom make ends meet. I got the guy who could play the piano by ear, and who mourned the day his dad took his piano away because his new house "needed more furniture in the formal living room."

Right or wrong, getting to be with_ that_ Edward, the Edward no one else really knew, made whatever else that came along with it worth it to me.

"You're mad, and you promised not to get mad," Alice huffed with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "You totally promised."

"I'm not mad, Al. I'm really not. I'm just taking it all in, I guess."

She leaned over and caressed my face with her hand, closing her eyes as if in pain. It was a gentle gesture that would have touched my heart, had I not seen the very dramatic license in it.

"Listen. Maybe you'll get a date? There's still time, sort of," Alice offered. "If not, maybe you could tag along with that big group that's going together?"

"That _big_ group is down to three people. And two of the three are the foreign exchange students."

"That one from Germany is totally fine."

"But he barely speaks English."

Alice arched one eyebrow--an ability she possessed that I totally coveted. "That wouldn't bother me. Around him I wouldn't be so concerned about talking anyway."

In moments like that I found myself wondering how I was such good friends with this insanely boy crazy, free spirit who couldn't have been more my opposite.

"Well, I'm definitely not going to Ninth Grade Banquet with a group, especially if I have to tag along," I announced with resolve.

"Guess I can't blame you there."

Alice really did look sympathetic in that moment, but it was fleeting. She glanced down at her Swatch and wrinkled her nose.

"Bella, I'm really, really sorry but I have to go now. We'll talk about this later, I promise."

Which meant we'd talk about it again only if Alice didn't have anything else more pressing to ramble on about, including, but not limited to: how cute Randal Springer looked in his Vans; her certainty that our PE coach hated Alice's guts and would probably put out a hit on her at some point; her secret obsession with Dan Qualye and his "sexy-conservativeness;" and how she had to find a way to see _Sex, Lies and Videotape_ or she might die.

She stood up and extended her arms in the air to stretch. Arching her back to deepen her stretch, she pushed her perky chest forward. I immediately looked down at my own AA cup chest and transiently wondered if _it_ might factor into my chronically dateless status.

"Where are you headed?"

"Well, I have a final fitting for my banquet dress," she hesitated. "Did you, um, want to come along?"

"I wish I could," I lied, "but I need to get to work on an English paper."

"Oh. Okay. Have fun with that paper. And, like, weirdly enough, I'm pretty sure you actually will have fun."

"You know me." I played along.

"And, keep your chin up, kay? Because you are so not defective."

"Thanks, Alice."

She walked toward my door and blew a kiss to my Bon Jovi poster on the way out. "Oh, and Bella, look on the bright side. There's a new _Quantum Leap_ on tonight!"

"I'll be waiting on pins and needles," I replied mockingly, though my sarcasm was lost on Alice. She was crazy over Scott Bakula, just one of many older men she found irresistible.

Once I heard her footsteps become faint and the slam of the front door, I went to my closet and closed myself in. Pushing aside several pairs of jeans, I grabbed a pink garment bag with _Gown Town_ written on it in fancy metallic gold letters. I slowly unzipped it and pulled out an amethyst taffeta dress with a fitted bodice and puffy elbow length sleeves. I held in my hands preciously.

Leaning back against my closet wall, I slid down it to the floor where I sat with the dress carefully perched in my lap. Tears welled up in my eyes and quickly spilled over.

Things were not playing out as I'd so hoped they would. In a perfect world, I was supposed to wear that beautiful purple dress, complete with dyed to match pumps and clutch. I was supposed to get a special up-do and manicure at the salon. I was supposed to wear my mom's genuine amethyst drop necklace. And I was supposed to be on the arm of my best friend, who would no doubt be wearing a cummerbund and tie to perfectly complement my dress.

So much for a perfect world and what's supposed to be.

When we purchased the dress several months prior, my mom and I had assumed I'd be going to the dance in some form or fashion. Of course, I was holding out hope that Edward would ask me. Even so, I figured if he didn't, someone would, and I'd go to that dance in my stunning purple dress and make Edward insanely jealous.

Instead, with just two short days left to go, I had no date and no prospects of one. Mostly I was sad and embarrassed. Ultimately I was frustrated at myself because I believed I was letting my mother down, not to mention wasting a lot of money on a dress that would never see the light of day.

Of course my mom was as supportive and loving as ever about it all, but in her eyes I could see she was distressed. That was all the motivation I needed to put on my brave face around her.

Yet in moments when I knew I was completely alone, I dropped the stoic act altogether. To miss the dance because I couldn't get a date was a monumental humiliation. And when the weight of that humiliation felt too heavy to bear, I'd hold my beautiful dress and cry alone in my closet.

Mom took me to dinner on the actual night of the dance, as a way to distract me I'm sure. She called it our Girls Night Out, but who was she kidding? It was the ultimate pity date, and we both knew it.

Red Lobster was considered fancy in our household, so I recognized she was pulling out all of the stops when she suggested we go there. I scarfed my all time favorite seafood dish, shrimp scampi, and after we split a slice of cheesecake we went see _Big_ starring Tom Hanks. It really was a great night, but no matter how much fun we had, my heart still hurt when I thought of what I was missing out on.

I went to my room that night after the pity date and hunkered down by myself, fulfilling every cliché out there by eating massive amounts of chocolate. I watched my bedside clock like a hawk, imagining in my mind what Alice and her date might be doing with each passing minute. Unfortunately, images of Edward and his date crossed my mind as well. As much as I desired not to dwell on them, I couldn't stop doing just that.

My imagination ran away with itself, helped along by my soundtrack for the evening, my favorite Richard Marx tape. His soulful lyrics about love and longing made me emotional even when absolutely nothing was awry in my world. So I shouldn't have been surprised by my outright weepiness, nor by the fact that I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Some time later I awoke from a fitful slumber to the sound of tapping on my bedroom window.

_Tap. Tap. Tap_.

I rubbed my eyes, focusing on the numbers of my digital clock, certain it was the wee hours of the morning. Shockingly, the lit green numbers told me it was only 12:00 am.

_Tap. Tap. Tap_.

I rolled over and flipped on my bedside lamp. Shifting my bleary gaze toward my window, I could make out a familiar shape through my sheer drapes. I hurried over, pulled back my sheers and found Edward looking in at me from the other side of the glass.

He had on his tux shirt and pants, and even donning just the partial get up, he looked like a male model in the Prom version of _Teen Magazine_. I quickly opened my window and helped him squeeze through it.

"Dude. When did your window get so tiny?" he asked, as he maneuvered awkwardly into my room.

"Since you got to be so big, goof."

"Oh yeah," he replied sheepishly. "Guess it's been a few months since I crawled through it, huh?"

The volume in which he spoke clued me in that he was not in touch with what the fact that my entire household was sound asleep.

"Edward, shhh. My parents probably wouldn't be too jazzed about me having a boy in my room at midnight."

"It's just me," he whispered in a much more appropriate middle of the night decibel.

"No matter who you are, it's never a good idea to sneak into the room of a girl whose dad packs heat."

"Aw, Officer Swan would never shoot me."

He plopped down onto my large yellow vinyl beanbag, which made an airy _pahh_ sound as the beads within it shifted around to accommodate him.

"So." I crossed my arms over my chest when it registered to my brain that I was standing there in an oversized Duran Duran t-shirt with no bra on. "Whatcha doing here?"

"Wanted to check in. Just got home from the dance."

I walked over to my bed and got into it, pulling the sheets and comforter up to my chin.

"So how was it? The dance and all?" My tone was purposefully casual and light. My goal was to come off disinterested; almost as if I'd forgotten the dance had even happened that night.

"Aw. It was okay I guess," he replied, sounding exactly like he did when describing a weekend in Midland with his dad and Fran and their new baby. He loathed those weekends in Midland.

"Just okay?" A glimmer of hope ignited within me at the idea that Edward might not have had the time of his life. Maybe just maybe, he didn't hold his date up in the air like Johnny did Baby in _Dirty Dancing_, as I envisioned earlier that evening.

"My date was a drag."

"I thought you really liked Makenna?" My voice remained steady, not giving away the pure elation inside of me.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. I noticed his hair must have been gelled down with a lot of product, because it didn't move at all.

"I like how Makenna _looks_. If only she could keep her mouth shut."

"Nice, Edward."

"Well, it's true," he replied defensively. "She is such a princess. She was ordering me around all night. I swear nothing's ever good enough for her."

"That's not exactly news. Why do you put up with her?"

"She's hot and she's a good kisser."

"Oh." It was all I could muster.

My stomach lurched at his words and my inner elation was knocked off its high horse. I was fully aware of Edward and his experienced lips, but hearing about it firsthand was a whole different matter.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this," he looked up at me genuinely baffled, "but _we _should've gone to the dance together, Bells. I mean we would have had a blast making fun of everybody there."

"Yeah." I feigned enthusiasm, hoping to mask how I annoyed I was with him for coming up with such a brilliant idea only after the fact.

"You should've seen Coach Dawson. Bella, he tried to break dance. Who break dances anymore?"

"Definitely not Coach Dawson."

"_Definitely_ not Coach Dawson." Edward smiled one of his heart stopping crooked smiles; the kind where his dimple was deep and his eyes looked like they had light in them. The kind of smile that made it altogether impossible for my universe not to revolve around him as if he were the sun.

He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "So how was _your_ night? Were you sad and stuff?"

"Nah," I lied. "Mom and I had a great time really."

"Take it from me. You and your mom probably had a better time than most of us at the dance. You didn't miss anything."

"Might have been nice to go though," I admitted quietly, lowering my eyes.

I wondered how different Alice's assessment of the dance would be. Somehow I imagined she would describe it as nothing short of magical, and the night of the year. Likely the truth sat somewhere between Edward's version and hers.

"So, you wanna do something?" Edward asked me, as if it were two in the afternoon and not the middle of the night. He nonchalantly tossed a hacky sack ball he'd found on my floor, back and forth between his hands.

"It's after midnight, Edward. There's not a lot we can do right now."

"Wow. Seriously? Doesn't feel that late. Maybe I'm just wide awake from all the cokes I drank?" He hopped up from the beanbag. "I guess I should let you get back to sleep, huh?"

I opened my mouth to protest and all that came out was a big yawn. "Sorry."

"Don't be, Bella. I'm the one that came over without looking at a clock. We'll do something later."

He made his way back to my window completely unaware of how I scrutinized his every move in those tux pants. Then he turned back toward me, almost catching me in the act of gawking.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Eric Yorkie asked about you tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"When he saw me with Makenna he was surprised, because for some reason he figured I was bringing you to the dance. Eric was with Maggie Alistair, who is like his second cousin or something. Which is sort of weird. Anyway, he said he had wanted to take you to the dance and wished he'd known you didn't have a date."

"Wow," I replied, genuinely stunned. "I wish he'd done his homework. He would have been fun to go with."

"Maybe next time?" Edward said nonchalantly, while maneuvering half his body through the window. "I'll call you later?"

"Sure," I answered him absentmindedly.

The rest of him disappeared through my window and he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint smell of his Polo cologne in the air.

I would've loved to have gone to the dance with Eric. He was funny, had a one of a kind pair of Converse his rich uncle got him in New York, and he looked really good in his wrestling uniform. He was decently popular and desirable, and had apparently found _me_ to be decently popular and desirable.

Just knowing that Eric had wanted to go with me was almost as good as actually going. That alone should have been the bit of information responsible for redeeming my Ninth Grade Dance nightmare. I knew it should have been, but what meant more to me than Eric Yorkie's interest, was knowing that Edward wished he'd been with me.

He'd endured Makenna in all her diva-ness, only to come knocking at my window when it was all said and done. He'd put on a tux and bought a corsage for her, only to wish I'd been the one by his side when it came down to it.

Pathetic as it was, his midnight visit to my window was enough to keep me hanging on. When it came to Edward, he invariably and unknowingly did something every time to keep me hanging on, no matter what it meant I was giving up.

Too restless too go back to sleep, I leaned over to my boom box and pushed play. Then I stared at a picture of Edward that sat on my bedside table, wishing I could have discreetly snapped one of him in his tux. Edward in a tux was a new thing, a delicious new thing for sure.

As my eyes fell upon the photograph of the beautiful boy next door- the boy I'd do anything for, and take anything from- Richard Marx's melodic voice once again filled my room. I found it quite ironic that the tape was on track five, a song called _Right Here Waiting._

And oh how I was.

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**Check out this link to hear the awesomeness that is "Right Here Waiting." www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=8i4fK4Fc7Ms Copy and Paste into your browser (sorry...couldn't figure out how to link it). Granted, the song is very dated, but it's still awesome. On a side note, Richard Marx was my first concert when I was 13...first time I ever saw grown women throwing theirs bras on to a stage!**

**Next chapter up...we go back to present day. You just might get to meet Bella's fiance, and like it or not, you might actually find him endearing. :) He's still no Edward, but I'm just saying...**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.**

**I am THANKFUL to those of you who are reading and reviewing!!! And I am uber-thankful to my wonderful beta, klarsen18.**

**Author's Note: we are back to the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day), and we get to meet Bella's fiancé…**

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**Chapter Eight---January 2000**

My living room walls were the perfect shade of caramel. They were exactly as I had envisioned them to be when I set out to revamp the room; warm and cozy. Granted it was my third paint color to go through. I had completely painted the walls three separate times with three different colors, only to be rightly satisfied on my last attempt.

Caramel macchiato had been too dark. Medium Camel was too light. Then I landed on Perfect Burlap, which was indeed perfect. It was a lot of trouble to go through but it was so worth it to have absolutely warm and cozy walls.

I settled into my red oversized couch, also warm and cozy, and stared at my perfect walls. Why couldn't life be as easy to fix as a "just not-right" paint color? Why couldn't it go like this: You discover something isn't right in your life and it makes your stomach incessantly gnaw and burn. So you simply pick a new life circumstance and cover up the old one with it? It would be as if the old one never existed.

If only.

The whole _closure_ conversation I'd had with Esme preoccupied me for a good two weeks. As thoughts of Edward took free reign over my mind, I went about life as usual with Mike. I did a decent job of pretending to live on cloud nine as a shiny happy newly engaged girl. Yet the gnawing only intensified as I kept up the act.

Consequently I found it difficult to eat, and I began to drop weight. It only made me seem normal, because shiny happy girls who are newly engaged _try_ to lose weight before their wedding. It was an exhausting way to live and I couldn't look at my fraudulent reflection in the mirror and not know in my gut, my ever-gnawing gut, that something had to give.

That's when I made the decision to follow Esme's advice and go to Fort Worth. I had no clue exactly what I'd do once I got there. I hadn't formulated a plan on what I'd even say to Edward. I just had to do something; anything.

Mike was on his way over to see me as I stared at my perfect walls. I know I must have looked vacant and distant in my contemplation when he walked into my house that night, but I was actually very present in the moment. Focused and mentally prepared to lie to this wonderful, decent man.

I heard him let himself in to my house and lay his keys on the table in the foyer.

"Bella?" I could hear his footsteps on my wood floors as he walked toward me. Even though I hadn't laid eyes on him, I knew he still had on his work clothes. I could tell by the _click_ sound his dress shoes made with each step.

"In here, babe," I called out in the same tone I used every night that this very same scenario played out.

He rounded the corner and entered my living room with the perfect walls, looking completely at home, because he too, was perfect. Broad smile, burly ex-football player build, dirty blonde hair that was cut short and neat, and sparkly blue eyes that all but disappeared when he grinned. His dress shirt was untucked with wrinkled shirttails and his sleeves were rolled up casually.

When he caught sight of me he sped up his steps just to get to me that much quicker. "How's my girl?" He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, lingering there for a moment to breath me in.

"Tired," I answered him honestly.

I patted the empty spot next to me on the couch and he plopped down beside me. He immediately grabbed my legs and pulled them onto his lap.

"Foot rub?"

"Have I ever said no to that?"

"Not yet." He grinned as he began to gently knead the bottom of my right foot.

"You spoil me."

"I have to take care of my favorite nurse. Lord knows the hospital doesn't."

I closed my eyes and rolled my neck, "I don't deserve you, Mike Newton." My voice wavered almost imperceptibly. Thankfully my eyes were closed and he couldn't see they were rimmed with tears.

Several minutes later I opened my eyes slightly and chanced a peek at Mike as he dutifully rubbed my feet. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he focused on the task at hand. The look of concentration written on his face reminded me of the day I first met him eight months prior.

At that time I had gone into a semi-depressed state, over none other than Edward. I guess as much as I tried to hide it, my work friends at the hospital were well aware of the funk I was in. In their concern, and likely because they were sick of the moping, they had dragged me to a sports bar one Friday night to have some fun.

The group of us camped out in the back of the bar in a dark and smoky billiard room. We were waiting for the next available pool table, when I became engrossed in watching a certain group of guys as they finished their game. One of them stood out to me because he was so intensely focused on what he was doing.

Not understanding exactly why, I was completely rapt by the guy. He wasn't devastatingly handsome, and he didn't possess a physical attribute that made him stand out in a crowd. There was just a certain air about him that piqued my interest. The crease between his eyes, the way his mental calculations played out on his countenance, and the methodical way he cracked his knuckles and jutted out his jaw in the exactly the same way prior to every shot he took. It all spoke to a deliberateness in him that intrigued me, and more than that, somehow soothed me.

Long story short, Mike Newton noticed me noticing him and after we spent some time making small talk, he asked for my phone number. He used it the very next day to ask me out on our first date. Quite reluctantly, my broken heart and I agreed to meet him for a "safe" noncommittal lunch. Fast-forward to eight months later, and I found myself saying yes to a mountaintop marriage proposal. The whole thing was as whirl wind as it sounds.

Certainly, the relationship came out of nowhere when I least wanted one and was nowhere near being ready for one. But there was something comforting and safe about Mike. And more than that, he was just utterly consistent, and I gravitated toward that reliability. Only in retrospect do I realize that it's possible I sought the consistency that Mike provided for me, more than I sought the man himself.

"How was Ms. Henderson today?" His voice interrupted my silent deliberation.

"Oh. Um." I cleared my throat. "She's still hanging on. I'm honestly shocked she lived through another night."

I felt a pang of sadness as I thought of a sweet older lady I'd been taking care of, who for all practical purposes should have passed on days earlier.

"Wonder what she's hanging on for?"

"I've wondered that myself a lot this week. I've seen several patients wait for a loved one to come say goodbye before they'll pass on. But this poor little lady doesn't have any family left to speak of."

"Maybe there's something else keeping her here?" he offered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe she has unfinished business?" He stopped rubbing my feet and he looked me square in the eyes. "Regrets even?"

My breath hitched in my throat. His words landed heavily on me and I wondered if in saying them he was letting me know he saw through me.

I held my breath, waiting to assess his face or his next words for a clue to his intention. But he said nothing more on the topic, and his eyebrows set back into a furrowed concentration as he continued on with his heavenly rubbing of my feet.

Exhaling, I promptly changed the subject. "So, tomorrow, Chicago?"

"Yep. Can't believe I have to catch a plane at 5 a.m." he groaned through a giant yawn, his blue eyes watering in its aftermath.

"But at least you love it there, right?"

"That I do. And I'm gonna take you with me one of these days." He looked at me pointedly.

"You know I'd love to go, but not while you're working." I scrunched up my nose. "It's no fun because you actually have to work."

"That's what typically happens on _work_ trips, Bella. Newton Outfitters won't market itself, sweetie." He tickled the bottom of my foot, but only briefly as he was fully aware of how much disdain I had toward being tickled. "Seriously, Chicago is one of my favorite places and I want to take you there and spoil you rotten. In fact, I'm dying to take you to this amazing jeweler I found last time I was there, preferably before the big day. Thought maybe this guy could make our wedding bands?"

As if on command to the words _wedding _and_ bands_, the gnawing in my gut was activated, taking on a new sharp edge. The phrase _bleeding ulcer_ came to mind.

Up until the day Mike proposed, the most I ever felt in regard to he and I were unsettled feelings. This didn't surprise me, as I was coming off a broken heart and I was still healing. I figured entering into a relationship that had gotten serious more quickly than I ever intended, was bound to bring out feelings of uncertainty in me.

I learned to handle my apprehension by pushing the feelings aside. When that didn't work I'd simply convince myself that Mike and I were just hanging out and casually taking things as they came. Clinging to thoughts like that made what I shared with him innocuous; casual and innocuous. And that I could handle.

Then he unexpectedly ended my delusions once and for all by dropping down on one knee and putting a ring on my finger. Since that day, the gnawing had ensued and rarely relented. The inescapable nature of it made it impossible for me to ignore what my gut was telling me. I shouldn't have said yes to his proposal. I wasn't ready to be married to Michael Lynn Newton III. And what's more, I might not ever be.

"Earth to Bella." He squeezed my foot. "Anyone home?"

"Oh. I'm sorry." I shook my head and blinked a couple of times, scrambling to remember what I was supposed to be saying. "Um. I was just thinking we don't have to get my wedding band somewhere super fancy. There are some jewelry stores here where we can find a plain platinum band, for probably a fraction of the price of something custom."

"Nah." He shook his head resolutely. "Only the best for my bride-to-be."

His face softened. "That's the first time I've called you that, Bella. Bride-to-be. I think I like it better than fiancé actually."

His lips turned up at the corners and he found my eyes with his. His gaze was clear and bright; certain. I fought the urge to look away. The confidence in his eyes was such a contrast to the state of my heart. And as much as I yearned to be as sure and certain as he, there wasn't a thing I could do to get there.

I loathed myself for not loving Mike the way he deserved to be loved. I despised myself for not only having unfinished business, but regrets as well. And I hated that the sum of it all had turned my beautiful diamond ring into nothing but a noose.

"I like the sound of that too," I lied in a whisper.

I didn't know what else to do. Why not lie with my words? After all, I'd been _living_ a lie for the entirety of my relationship with him.

He leaned forward and gently kissed me, cupping my face with his hand. As I looked at him, wearing his honesty and certainty like a badge, I felt more resolved than ever to make things right.

"Sweetie," my voice was calm, and I did my best to mask the sadness that I was sure colored its tone. "I was thinking about heading to Dallas this week."

It was lie number two. I was actually going to Fort Worth, but I said Dallas because that's where Alice lived. She was my cover, though she didn't know it.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There are some things I need to take care of."

"I thought you were going there next month to shop for wedding stuff, right?"

I formulated lie number three as I went. "I am. I mean I was. I just decided to go a bit earlier. There's a new nurse at the hospital looking for shifts, and I can easily give her mine. So taking off work isn't a problem."

"You could certainly use the break."

"And you'll be in Chicago this week anyway," I added, knowing it would seal the deal.

"I think it's a great idea, Bella," he said agreeably, just as I knew he would. "I just wish I could be there with you. I'd love to see Alice and Jasper again."

"We'll go again soon." I said it with as much hope and conviction as I could muster, wondering if it was lie number four in the making. "I know they'd love to get to know you better too."

"So when do you think you'll leave?" He let go of my foot and shook his hands in the air briskly.

I pulled my feet out of his lap. "Hand cramps mean you are officially off duty. I won't be responsible for turning your hand into a permanent claw."

I tucked my feet under me just to solidify my proclamation. "Thought I might leave tomorrow if I can swing it?"

"Okay. So I'll give your car a good once over before I leave tonight. I can run it over to the Chevron station and air up the tires too." He reached over and grabbed my hand, kissing it as he intertwined my fingers in his. "But first, do you care if I turn on Sports Center for a minute?"

I grabbed the remote off the side table and did the honors for him. We sat in a comfortable silence as he caught up on the day's scores. I actually felt peaceful and the gnawing was as minimal as it had been in days. If only it could've been like that every day, I would've married the man with no apprehension and no looking back. But I had a sneaking suspicion things had settled down within me only because I had finally made up my mind to go to Edward and do what I needed to do.

As Mike painstakingly checked over my car an hour later and deemed it road worthy, I found it so contemptible that I was allowing him to remain completely in the dark. He didn't know where I was really headed, and he had not a reason in the world to doubt my supposed destination. He hadn't a clue that he was unknowingly getting my car ready so I could safely make it to another man. And Mike had no idea, absolutely no idea, just how pivotal my little road trip would be in the grand scheme of us.

As it turns out, I didn't either.

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**End notes: for those of you not familiar with Texas. Forth Worth and Dallas are part of the Metroplex, but there is a good 45 minutes to an hour between the 2 cities. Edward is in Fort Worth and Alice is in Dallas (which rhymes quite nicely:). **

**I am sure you are dying to meet present day Edward, and I promise you will. Just know the flashbacks are "introducing" him to you and helping you understand what a deep connection he and Miss Bella share. **


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: it goes without saying. Mrs. Meyer owns all.

**Authors note: I feel absolutely giddy b/c you guys are actually reading my story! Thanks for making time for it!!! And as always, my beta, klarsen18 rocks my world! **

**In this chapter we find E and B in the summer before high school (15 years old). It is just a couple of months after Bella's Ninth Grade Banquet Disaster...oh how things can change in seemingly no time at all. All I'm gonna say is this particular flashback is a bit (or a lot) sad & heavy. It's also a long chapter. It took this many words to get it right!**

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**Chapter Nine--- Sad Song on a Loop (1989)**

At first all I could do was cry. It was like a permanent state of tears. Some welled in my eyes but didn't make their way down my cheeks. Others streamed down like raging rivers with no signs of stopping. And many, probably most, were cried into my pillow at night, just when I thought I might be out of tears.

It was the same pillow that had received many tears over the years, shed for so many different reasons. I cried over having to buy the knock off version of Guess overalls, instead of the authentic kind. I cried over the hardships of being a teenage girl who isn't exactly an outcast, but also isn't part of the in crowd. I cried when my parents wouldn't let me go to see U2's _Rattle and Hum_ with anyone who was anybody at my school. And of course I cried many a time over my unrequited love for Edward.

After a true earth shattering circumstance hit me like a monsoon in my 15th year of life, I longed to cry over such simple and relatively unimportant things. On a hot June night in 1989, I got a crash course in real suffering. I learned, in what seemed a split second, that boy trouble, mean girls and unfair parents simply did _not_ qualify as true affliction.

Long story short, Renee Swan fell to the ground in the middle of a Safeway parking lot, shut her lovely blue eyes and never opened them again. The whole thing happened in slow motion, yet so fast I couldn't process it. I watched my mom, who was to me all things gentle, caring and worthy, breathe her last breath.

As she lay there on the pavement still and statuesque, I couldn't comprehend what I was looking at. There was nothing, absolutely nothing filed away in my brain that could tell me what to do or what to think in that very situation. So I kneeled down beside her and shook her gently. I shook her in the same way I'd done so many Saturday mornings when I wanted her to wake up because I was salivating for her blueberry pancakes.

I shook her. Nothing. I shook her again. Nothing. Once more, but harder. Nothing. I shook her one last time and yelled as panic welled up within me, "Mom, wake up!" Still nothing. Only then did it register in my young naïve brain that my mom wasn't going to respond to me no matter how hard I shook her or how loud I yelled.

My dad, who had been in the store when it happened, came upon us in the parking lot minutes later. He took over from there, cradling my mom's head in his lap and beckoning a bystander to call an ambulance. While I watched my glassy eyed father rock her lifeless body slow and steady, something unseen but very distinct happened.

Simply put, I slipped into myself.

And that's when the tears came.

The days following her death were a blur. We were inundated with family and friends for about a week following her funeral. It was strangely comforting to be around people who I understood were safe and loved us, but when it came down to it, I barely knew. Then the barrage of people gradually faded away one by one and I was left in a house full of my mom- her smell, her clothes, her projects, her books. It ripped my heart out to look at anything she'd ever touched, which was just about everything around me.

I spent the rest of that summer holed up in my room, accepting only the occasional visit from Edward and Alice. My dad did the same thing, except he didn't accept the occasional visit from anyone. He would only venture out to robotically put in an eight hour shift at the station where he was placed on desk duty until "he had time to properly grieve."

He and I simply coexisted in silence most of the time, looking much more like roommates than a father and daughter. We'd share a daily pass in the hallway in which he'd smile a smile that didn't reach his expressionless eyes, and ask me if I was okay. I'd nod my head yes, asking him in turn how he was doing. He'd say he was fine.

Then we'd stare at each other for a few fleeting minutes, awkward and wordless, while I'd yell at him in my mind. "_Help me! Talk to me. Make things better! I need you to get me through this_!_ Explain to me how my mom, who was perfectly healthy just drops dead from a stroke! Tell me how I am supposed to live without her!_"

Unfortunately, Charlie never tuned into my silent cries. Since I was used to having a mother who could almost read my mind, I could never articulate them for him either. So we'd both go about our solitary business. The business of losing ourselves in a sadness that swallows you whole.

In my mom's absence, my dad and I both learned the hard way how responsible she had been for animating our home. When she was near, there had never been a dull moment. There was always the sound of her favorite Dion Warwick tape playing, or the familiar cadence of Phil Donahue's voice coming from the living room television which she watched as she ironed dad's work shirts. Often there was the repetitive _ch-ch-ch-ch_ of her sewing machine motor, and more often than not, the comforting murmur of her voice in the other room as she talked on the phone with her old college roommate and best friend in Honolulu.

But even beyond these daily noises that I longed to hear once more, I missed what she had injected into our family's seemingly mundane routine. She'd facilitated communication, organized play, structured chores and altogether made our existences meaningful and alive.

As the days droned on after her death, our home became an inorganic structure. Two bodies breathed the air in that house and shared the space inside those four walls. Yet it might as well have been vacant, because there mostly was just silence-maddening, deafening silence.

Edward's mom had suggested I see a grief counselor. I didn't want to go, but I did because it was nice to have someone actually step up and show concern for me. Especially the kind of concern I would have liked to see from my father.

I went to see Dr. Hall a total of three times. It wasn't that I hated it or him for that matter, but I found myself answering his questions with what I thought were the right answers, as opposed to what I really felt. It played out like a test to me and since my reality had become one big test, I couldn't take another one. Especially one I was sure to fail.

I told my dad I didn't want to go to therapy anymore and he never bucked against it. In fact, when I approached him about quitting the sessions he looked at me with his vacant stare as if he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. He very well might not have.

I took the grief journal Dr. Hall had given me though, because he said it would help me to process my pain; whatever that meant. I had intended to use it, but I could never bring myself to write in it. I didn't have a lot to say, and truth be told, one sentence was all I could come up with anyway…_My mom is dead and maybe I am too_.

The nights were especially hard. I wanted nothing more than to escape my nightmarish life by falling into a deep slumber, but I couldn't sleep. I was lucky to get in maybe three hours a night. I watched a lot of reruns of _Growing Pains_, which ran on one of the cable channels from 2 to 4 am. It had always been one of my favorite shows, but I fast became cynical toward it. Where was the episode where Maggie Seaver dies and leaves a non-communicative Jason behind to deal with the children who are drowning in their grief? If only _that_ episode existed, perhaps I'd know what to do with myself and what to make of my life.

For two full months a veil covered me and I sunk deeper and deeper into myself. I was disconnected from everything and everyone around me. Alice in all her vibrancy couldn't draw me out, and Edward in all his comforting familiarity couldn't either. The life and relationships I'd known for my first fifteen years became at times a faint memory; and at other times simply a sick joke.

It was my summer of darkness.

Yet just when I began to feel too weary, too fragile, too hopeless and too broken to go on. Right when the idea of ending it all began to dance around in my head, and I actually had several methods in mind to do the deed, something in me changed. To this day I don't understand it and I'm not sure what brought it on. Perhaps it was just how grief cycles through someone? Or maybe God Himself intervened to turn the tide? Either way, I felt a definite change, a distinct shift, deep in my bones.

In the days following this unseen variance, I noticed my pain was not quite as raw. The hurt was not gone by any means but it was duller; almost anesthetized. I found I could carry the ache, or cram it way down anyway, without wearing it on my sleeve. I could make it through the day without feeling there wasn't enough air for me to breath, or that my heart might burst out of my chest. I could make it through the day without crying, waiting to release the tears only at night and only into my trusty pillow. By that point my pillow had become permanently stained with concentric circles of salt.

Some might say that was the point in my summer when I turned the proverbial corner. Personally, I don't think it was. It was simply the point in which the pain stopped paralyzing me, and I could make logical steps toward living again. The prospect of leaving my room and possibly even my house, though terrifying and draining in theory, was something I would consider. I also noticed myself feeling lonely and desiring to see someone besides my dad. I started tidying up around the house, showering more regularly, and I even developed a semblance of an appetite. This meant that I needed to learn how to cook, seeing as though Charlie never saw to that. All in all, my daily routine began to look more like a normal life than it had in a months. Thus, with many reservations and not even half my heart, I decided it was time to re-enter the land of the living again.

My first step in that direction was to call Edward and ask him to meet me at Our Tree.

It was late in August and I hadn't spent one moment under the Sycamore since the night before my mom died. I timidly stepped out of my bedroom window and took a deep bracing breath just as I let my toes touch the grass below. The fescue felt heavenly to my bare feet; slick and smooth. The fresh summer air, though sweltering, filled my lungs splendidly.

Edward was already in place, leaning against the tree's trunk. His fair skin had a healthy glow and he was noticeably leaner and more muscular, presumably from his summer job of lawn care and landscaping. I, on the other hand, had skin that hadn't seen the sun in two months and a scrawny body that had been fed only once a day up until very recently. I glanced down at my tank top and shorts, ruing how my choice in clothes only accentuated my alien-esque body.

When he saw me coming, he jumped to his feet and a wide grin encompassed his face. I couldn't help but smile back at him. It felt so strange and foreign to me, as I hadn't truly smiled in weeks.

"It's about time," he said quietly, with his green eyes tentatively set on mine. I think he was trying to be funny or sarcastic, but it came out more fittingly solemn than anything else.

As ready as I was for this moment to happen, it was harder than I had imagined. I was out of my comfort zone and it terrified me. For a split second I considered retreating back to my room where I was free from expectations and knowing eyes. Instead, I blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath. I soaked in the sight of my best friend and knew he deserved more than that.

"I know. Our Tree is probably wondering where in the heck I've been," I replied, attempting to keep things light.

"The tree and I have both missed you." Edward looked deeply into my eyes.

"I missed you too," I forced out, finding it arduous to say anything with any sort of sentiment attached to it.

"I was so glad to hear from you last night. I've been hoping this day would come," he licked his lips nervously, "but I wasn't altogether sure it would."

Pain momentarily flickered in his soft eyes.

"Look Edward," I stared down at my feet, taking in how starkly pale they were in comparison to his, "I know I have been an awful friend to you, but---"

"Bella," He cut me off, his voice cracking with emotion, "_don't_ apologize to me."

"But I owe you an apology. I'm just sor---"

He silenced me by stepping toward me and pulling me into his chest. His arms wrapped around me in a tight but awkward hug. At first I tensed up stiffly and tried to pull away. But when he wouldn't let go of me, I found myself slowly surrendering.

I melted into his chest and began crying uncontrollably all over his favorite Bruce Springsteen t-shirt. It was the kind of cry that involves sobbing, snot and unintelligible babble. I found a console in his arms that had been out of reach for weeks, and resisting it would have been like turning down water in the dessert. Why I hadn't sought the oasis of my good friend sooner, I couldn't quite reason.

"Dang it, Edward." I pulled away from him several minutes later. "You totally blew it for me. I was only crying at night."

I plopped down on the soft cool grass while wiping my tear stained cheeks with the back of my hand. I began idly plucking blades of grass.

"I know that," he mumbled under his breath, as he sat down beside me.

"You know what?"

He hesitated, staring unseeingly at his hands. "I know you cry at night."

"_How_ would you know that?"

"Because," it was his turn to absentmindedly pluck at the grass, "sometimes I watch you through your window at night."

"You what? Ew." I folded my arms across my chest and drew my legs in self protectively. "Guess it's time for me to invest in blinds."

"I'm not being creepy, but come on, Bella. You wouldn't take my calls, and you made it clear you weren't seeing visitors. You have to understand that I just needed to know… I just needed to check in on you. That's the only way I knew how."

"Peeping through windows is a completely different thing than checking in on someone."

"I wasn't peeping. You know I can see you in your room and you can see me in mine. It's always been that way."

"It's still creepy and verges on stalker behavior."

He sighed loudly, looking with distant eyes to the street that ran in front of our houses. Frustration and embarrassment took turns playing out on his countenance.

"So you just sat there and watched me cry through my window?" I asked quietly.

"Sometimes. And sometimes," he paused for several moments, "I cried with you."

He cleared his throat nervously. "I miss her too, Bella." His voice, full of emotion, wavered a little.

Truthfully, I hadn't given much thought to what Edward had gone through in losing my mom. He spent countless hours in our home over the years when his mom had to go back to school and get a job. Renee was his second mom for all practical purposes and his life was certainly left with an immeasurable void by her death too. Buried by my own grief, I hadn't for a moment considered his.

"I know you do, Edward. I know you miss her," I whispered, under the weight of my remorse. "And I know I shouldn't have pulled away from you. I just couldn't help it there for awhile." I added softly.

"_I get it_, Bella." His voice was earnest but subdued. "I get what you've been through. There's no need to explain."

I just nodded my head, knowing words would've failed me. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments and I saw that he actually did get what I'd been through. He wasn't angry and he didn't need my apologies.

We both sat still and soundless as we leaned on the massive trunk of the Sycamore, whose canopy of leaves made the ninety-nine degree weather feel more like a mild Spring day. The only sound was that of the occasional car passing by. I could feel Edward breathing next to me, and in my peripheral vision I saw the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. There was something comforting about it. I started counting the seconds between each breath he took. The consistent pattern of that, too, was comforting in an odd way.

"So how _are_ you doing?" Edward's voice startled me, pulling me out on my bizarre calculations.

He turned toward me after I failed to answer him. I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. "Like how are you really doing?"

I wouldn't allow my gaze to meet his, knowing he could read me and would know if my words didn't match what my eyes were telling him. "Better than I was I guess."

"And your dad?"

"We still aren't talking much. He goes into the station, comes home, hits the recliner, and pretty much sacks out for the night."

"Do you want my mom to check in on him?"

"Not so much," I answered him too quickly. "His brother calls all the time and Pastor Welch has stopped by a few times. No one seems to be getting through. It would be pointless to stress your mom out over it. She has enough on her plate."

"She'd want to help him. She's said as much."

"Really, Edward, it's not necessary." As the words left my lips, they sounded terse and forced. I hadn't intended for them too, but as it was for so many things, I just couldn't help it.

There was so much I wanted to say to him. I wanted to tell him how alone and devastated I felt. I wanted him to know how badly my dad was doing. That he drank _a lot_ of whiskey and coke and I feared something was terribly wrong with him. I was censoring myself in a way I'd rarely done with Edward. It was as if there was an invisible force field around me, insulating me and disconnecting me from anything outside of it.

"You're sure you don't want my mom to talk to him?" His tone was desperate.

"He'll snap out of it. It's only been two months." I said it with conviction as if I knew the first thing about it. I actually knew nothing about it, and really believed in my gut that my dad had checked out and wouldn't be checking back in anytime soon. "He doesn't need any help."

I didn't look at Edward once during our short exchange about my dad. He looked at me, or the side of my face as it were, the entire time. I hoped that the brevity of my answers and my unwillingness to make eye contact would convey to him that I was done discussing the particular topic.

"So, did you know that the Crowleys moved?" He spoke in a completely different chit-chatty tone. I guessed my message had gone through loud and clear.

"Heard something about that." I tried to sound interested.

"This older couple bought the house. They are having a pool party this weekend so they can get to know everyone. You ought to come and see everybody. Wouldn't be the same without you."

"Yeah, thanks," I replied mechanically, with no intention of going to the party.

"I heard they redid the pool house. I bet it looks so weird without Tyler's _Night_ _Rider_ posters everywhere."

"I bet," I replied, smirking on the inside.

Edward shifted around uncomfortably and ran his hand through his hair a couple of times. "Is it just me, or do you _really_ not want to talk right now?"

I glanced over at him with the intention of telling him that no I didn't want to talk, and that me just coming out of my room was a monumental achievement. I wanted to tell him not to push it, because I might just regret venturing out and resolve to never do it again. But I got sidetracked studying his face; his familiar face that had changed in almost imperceptible ways in only a summer. His jaw line was more defined and more squared off. It was covered with dark downy hair that would soon need to be shaved. His smile seemed broader and he'd gotten his braces off to reveal a full compliment of white straight teeth. His bronze-brown hair was sun kissed and shiny, and of course in it's usual state of disarray.

He wore a look of uncertainty, that colored his maturing face childlike, and I couldn't for the life of me shut him down with my words. Perhaps coming out and seeing him face to face was my first mistake. Shutting him out had been so much easier for me when I was holed up alone in my dungeon-like bedroom.

"Look, Edward, it's not that I don't want to talk." I chose my words carefully. "It's just that I don't know _what_ to say and trying to figure out what to say feels like it will kill me or something. Even small talk is like impossible for me. I think you could hold a gun to my head and I still couldn't come up with anything. Can you understand that?"

"Sure I can."

"I think about stuff constantly. There are all of these things I've thought about since she…" I paused, finding I couldn't say the word. "I don't know _what_ to say." I rubbed my eyes briskly with my hands, as frustration buzzed under my skin. "I've got nothing. Just nothing."

"It's okay, Bella. You don't have to talk. I just want you to know you can…to me. Anytime."

"I know that. I've known that all summer." I bit my lip, willing my emotions to stay in check. "I really appreciate it too."

My eyes met his and I could see they were watering; not full-on tears, but easily the precursor to them. I swallowed down a lump in my throat, while feeling irritated at Edward for being so uncharacteristically emotional. I diverted my gaze and laid back on the soft cool grass.

"So are you planning on starting school in two weeks?" He asked, still very efforted and contrived.

"Yep."

"You ready for it?"

"I think. For one thing, I'm thankful everything happened in the summer and not during the school year. At least there won't be some special assembly for my classmates to help them understand how to deal with me and what I've been through."

"Philip Peterson," we said in unison, both remembering being sent to an all-4th grade assembly to be debriefed after Philips's dad tragically died in a car wreck.

"All I know is I don't want a fuss made over me. If there's anything that makes me not want to go back, it's having everyone treat me differently."

"No one will do that," he protested confidently.

"Remember when Shelly Jernigan's dad had cancer and you'd constantly see her walking down the hall looking all dishelved and stuff? And she'd sit in the courtyard and play _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ on her Walkman over and over, so loud you could hear it through the headphones?"

"I do remember that." He grimaced. "Poor Shelly."

"Exactly. The first thing you thought to say was 'poor Shelly.' I refuse to be Poor Bella, the 'girl whose mom died.' I refuse to walk around looking a mess with permanent red puffy eyes. And I refuse to lose myself in some sad song and play it on a loop."

"You won't be like Shelly Jernigan, because you're nothing like her. But at the same time, it's okay for you to not have it all together. It's only been 2 months."

"And lately I'm doing okay. I just want to blend in with all the other sophomores and adjust to high school like everyone else." With my jaw set firmly, I made a ludicrous declaration that made all the sense in the world to me. "I'm just ready to move on from all this. I'm over it."

"What do mean _your over it_? It's not like you just broke up with a guy." He didn't attempt to mask the look he wore on his face; a mix of horror and skepticism. "Your mom died."

His words hit me like a kidney punch, causing me to physically wince. "Gee, thanks for the information, Edward." I sat back up and situated myself against the tree, fidgeting like a three year old to find a comfortable position. I was fast becoming annoyed at where Edward was taking our conversation and it made my skin itch.

"Listen, Bells, I feel like you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Not giving yourself enough time."

"I've been Anne Frank for two months. Two months in hiding." My voice was harsher than I'd intended, but I needed him to hear me. "I have not been sure about anything for a long time. But I am sure about this. It is time to get on with it and move forward."

A mental picture of my dad flashed in my mind. The way in which he'd given up on life and left me alone to flounder, disgusted me. His poor example was all the motivation I needed to be his complete opposite.

"Do you really think things like this are so cut and dry? That you can just decide to be done grieving?"

"Pretty much sums it up," I replied sharply.

"Don't fool yourself Bella. My dad checked out four years ago and I am _still _dealing with it. If it were as simple as you are making it, don't you think I, of all people would have written that situation off a long time ago?"

"So now you're the expert on how to deal with things? As I recall, you didn't talk a whole heck of a lot about the divorce unless I forced you to. In fact, I'm pretty sure three of your best friends didn't even know there had been a divorce until they came over and figured out your dad no longer lived in your house."

"But I talked about it, even if it was only to you. You don't talk to anyone. I'm really worried about you." He began to chew on his thumbnail, or what was left of it. "The way I see it, you've got Alice, who can't shut her trap long enough to listen to anyone. And then there's your dad who is in some kind of funk and isn't there for you. Which leaves me. I'm all ya got and I want to be here for you. Do you get that?"

He turned and faced me in such a way that I couldn't escape his gaze. His pleading eyes were intent on mine. I noticed his brows were furrowed and it caused all kinds of lines to surface that didn't belong on a face so young and unspoiled. It hurt me to see his face twisted and warped with worry. As much as I wanted to see those lines go away, I still couldn't give him what he demanded of me.

"I'm not dense, Edward. I get that. But it doesn't change the fact that I still don't know what to say?"

"Just tell me how you feel."

"That doesn't help."

"_Tell me how you feel_."

There was an intensity in his voice I wasn't accustomed to. It certainly got my attention, but even so I was still at a loss for words. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head with clenched fists, aggravated that he wanted something from me I didn't have to give.

"There is no right or wrong answer here. Just tell me how you feel in this very moment."

"Fine," I huffed, wanting more than anything for him to stop harping. "I'm annoyed. Are you happy now?"

His full lips twitched in a transient half smile and he raised his eyebrows, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"I'm mad that we are having to have this conversation in the first place," I added, going with an unexpected inertia that was pulling me along.

"So, you're mad at me?" Strangely, he looked pleased even at the prospect of being the object of my anger.

"_No_, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad that my mom died, because we wouldn't be having this annoying conversation otherwise."

"And?"

"Don't push it, Edward."

"Come on. Surely you've got more than that to say." His tone was ever so slightly condescending. I knew he was baiting me; challenging me even. He knew how to goad me and I was aware he was purposefully pushing my buttons. Even so, I took the bait.

"You want the truth?" I narrowed my eyes and leveled him with them. "Here it is." I pushed against the ground and sat up straighter, leaning toward him; ready to pounce.

"I want to hit you because you are bugging me so much. I want to get up and go hide in my room to get away from you, but I've missed you so much I can't make myself do it.

"In general I'm doing awful, but not as awful as I was, so I am at least a little hopeful that I might make it. Life is so freaking complicated now. I want things to be simple again and I want to _feel _fifteen again, because now I feel old--really, really old. Which isn't helped any by the fact that my dad, for all practical purposes, has forgotten what it means to be a parent. And I'm sick of being alone. I know I did it to myself, but I didn't know how _not _to do it."

I chanced a look at him, curious of his reaction, but terrified to gauge it. "So as you can see, I'm a big screwed up mess."

His lips curved up into a subtle smile as his tear-filled eyes scanned my face. In a whisper he said, "That wasn't so bad was it?"

My stomach quivered under his inspection and I felt super self-conscious all of a sudden. I was at my most vulnerable, and in a way he was too. It was completely counterintuitive for him to be the one prodding and leading a conversation like that.

"Nah, I guess it wasn't too bad," I admitted with a certain amount of surprise at the sense of release I felt. "But I think I'm done for the day," I smirked. "That was more than I've said in a month and I'm totally tired now."

"Fair enough." He seemed relieved, like his load was lighter too. His posture relaxed and the lines on his face that bothered me so, had vanished. "How about a game of one-on-one?"

"Okay?" I breathed out, surprised and pleased that he was actually letting me stop there.

"My dad got me a new goal. He cancelled our hiking trip, so he bought me a sweet consolation prize."

"He cancelled again?"

"Just postponed it by two weeks." Edward was flippant. He'd come to expect the let downs when it came to his dad. "We're gonna go to some place called Grace Trail that supposedly has awesome hiking. I was bummed at first, but getting a slick new goal out of it isn't so bad."

Edward hopped up and extended his hand to me. I took it, and with ease he pulled me up off the grass.

"Geesh, Skeletor, ever heard of eating?"

"I'm working on it, okay?" I huffed, knowing he was referring to my emaciated body.

"You better be." He smiled broadly.

***

We played basketball all that afternoon and then star gazed on Edward's roof that night. We both seamlessly named all the visible constellations, having studied and memorized them during our summer of '84 astronomer phase. Then we ate fudge popsicles under Our Tree, letting them melt down our hands as if we were 8 years old again.

At the end of the night he walked me to my window. As I was about to climb through it he pulled me into an impulsive hug. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I've missed you, Bells. But I'm glad you're back. Just promise me you won't go away like that ever again."

I swallowed down a lump in my throat and forced out in a whisper of my own. "I promise, Edward."

For the rest of that summer, which amounted to fourteen days, we hung out together just like the summers past. I talked with Edward about my mom off and on, especially if I was having a particularly hard day. But mostly we just acted like two fifteen year olds squeezing the life out of a summer whose end was in sight. It was precisely what I needed and it did me more good than any amount of therapy could have.

In the evenings when I parted ways with Edward, I would go inside and kiss my dad's head as he dozed in his easy chair, with an empty highball glass still in his hand. He never noticed I was there and he never felt those kisses, but I did it anyway.

Then I'd head to my room and wash up for bed. As soon as I laid down on my yellow floral bedspread that my mom had sewn for me, the tears I'd avoided and pushed aside all day came on cue. I'd grab my trusty pillow and sob into it until the tears stopped coming. And somehow that release made me feel better; even if infinitesimally.

I was by myself in those moments, but not really. I could feel Edward watching me through my window most nights, and I realized that I'd probably always sensed him there even before I knew he watched me. Funny thing was, it didn't bother me. Instead of it feeling creepy, it actually reassured me as no one or no thing had been able to do that whole dark summer.

Because of Edward's habit of nighttime surveillance, I was alone but never lonely. And that meant more than anything else.

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**Again, thanks for reading**. **Another chapter will post soon. It's another flashback, but I promise it won't require Kleenex. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella.

**Thanks to my beta klarsen18, who should get paid for all the awesomeness that she is!!! Thanks to ManiacMotherland for rec'ing this story to all her friends AND on A Different Forest. And thanks to those of you reading this...**

**Chpt. 10 takes place in 1990, E and B's first year of high school. (Where I grew up, high school was 10th-12th). **

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**Chapter Ten- Unlikely Fairy Tale (1990)**

Starting high school is terrifying enough, but darkening the doors when you feel you have a huge "X" written on your forehead that marks you as different, needy and special, makes it utterly horrifying.

And it was with much horror that I embarked on my first day at Harrison High.

There was so much going on inside me after losing my mom and enduring that summer of darkness. I feared if a classmate even looked at me wrong way, I might just explode into tears right in front of the entire student body. I was sure I would make a splash, the entirely wrong kind of splash, on my first official day in high school. Thereby ruining my chances of ever being normal ever again.

As it turned out though, there were a few watchful eyes that day, namely Edward, Alice and a few of my friends. There might have even been pitiful glances here and there, but nothing broke the emotional damn holding me in place. Not once did I have to fight back tears. I never found myself ducking into a restroom to get my wits about me. I never entertained the option of putting in a half day, as Edward's mom had so delicately suggested.

Making it through that first day was pivotal for me because I realized I could manage in a world outside of my home and my neighborhood. I found that I could blend into the woodwork and I wasn't _poor Bella whose mom died_. I was just one of many faces in a sea of sophomores at Harrison High. This realization delighted me and for the first time ever I was ecstatic to be average.

After that triumphant first day, I launched into what could have been known as the _year of overcompensation_. My primary goal in life, which I strove for with a vengeance, was to show anyone and everyone that I was not, and would never be some kind of sympathy case.

I worked hard in my classes. I kept my nose clean. I did exactly what my teachers asked of me, and I kept a low profile socially. For all practical purposes, I was a model student.

This prompted my sophomore counselor, at a mid year parent meeting, to say to my dad, "Bella is a top student and all around good girl who has almost miraculously overcome a major life crisis with no signs of trauma or duress. She is quite the survivor and I'm sure this is a testament to your parenting, Mr. Swan."

As I watched my dad soak in her words with a look of pride on his face, I wanted to wretch. His hand played no part in how I was or wasn't coping. Sure, he put a roof over my head and provided the necessary creature comforts of life. For these things I was grateful because there was a time that I questioned whether or not he'd be able to provide for us. However, our relationship held no intimacy and barely any familiarity. In many ways, he and I sitting there together as a united front was nothing but a farce. A farce I would ultimately choose to project, all toward the end of not appearing needy.

Strangely, even though the girl I was at school was really some amped up version of myself, I quite enjoyed being her. I was actually happy during those hours, far away from the reality that being home wouldn't allow me to escape. I loved being around kids who were simple and lead uncomplicated lives, relatively speaking.

It was a game of sorts for me to pretend to be one of them, simple and uncomplicated. The game only lasted a good seven hours, and the jig was up after school when I stepped through the front door of my home into the maddening silence.

It would hit me like a wave almost daily, that my mother was gone. I wouldn't be walking into her warm smile, incessant questions and listening ear.

That's when the real me came out. The Bella who was barely making it. The Bella who still cried many tears -though strictly sequestered to my bedroom at night- and never seemed to run out of them. The Bella who was sick and tired of being sick and tired. The Bella who leaned on a certain crazy haired, green-eyed boy like never before.

Edward was the only one who knew the real story. Alice was around as much as always and supported me in her own way. I knew she loved me and was doing her best, but I think my hard-pressed reality was out of her scope. Much like my school days, she provided a distraction for me. In some ways, her role might have been as valuable to me as Edward's.

What he gave to me, was what I needed most, simply a safe and soft place to land. He knew when I was in a bad way just by the look on my face. He understood what I was feeling without having to ask. He knew when to make me talk, as well as when to let me just be. His intuition came from knowing me so well and so long, and also from his own experience with grief. Granted, his dad wasn't dead, but Edward was intimately acquainted with profound loss and all that went with that.

We got along impeccably that year for the most part. Our only and main point of contention was his many girlfriends. He attracted them like a moth to the light, and he was just about as discriminate. He was only getting his footing in the whole dating scene, and no one relationship lasted more than a week or two - but it still bothered me. I wanted him all to myself and I wasn't in the mood to share him. My attachment to him at that time wasn't about how crazy I was over him. It was about me needing him and depending on him more than I ever had before.

I could never understand why he might even be interested in other girls. I thought that even if he and I weren't romantic, what we shared was enough. It filled me up to the brim, and I errantly believed the same should be true for him.

After I got a job in the summer following my sophomore year, my horizons broadened. I began to grasp for myself Edward's curiosity in the opposite sex. I finally understood why a platonic friendship hadn't been enough for him.

Twilight Coffee House was the coolest place I'd ever spent time in. It was the first coffee shop to hit our town, well before Starbucks came on the scene. The owner roasted and brewed his own beans and it was all very innovative at the time.

During the school year, I'd studied in Twilight's eclectic surroundings quite a bit. There was a relaxed vibe with its worn couches, antique mismatched tables and chairs, distressed wood and exposed brick. When a summer job offer there literally landed in my lap, I just about wet my pants in excitement. I needed money and I needed a job and only in my wildest imagination could I have dreamed of getting to work somewhere so tragically hip.

The people who called themselves regulars at Twilight were intellectual and edgy, in a good way. Most came from the college in our city, while some were students at Parker High, otherwise known as the gifted and talented school across town. It was not unusual to see someone reading a leather bound novel written by an obscure author I hadn't heard of. Often these coffehouse folks would be writing their thoughts or mindlessly sketching something in a moleskin journal. They intrigued me in the way they carried themselves and went about the simplest of things. In essence, these people were so many things I wasn't, but somehow I got to be in their audience five days a week, simply because I donned an apron that read Twilight Coffee.

One particular regular piqued my interest in a different way than the rest. He was a Senior at Parker High and he frequented the shop every day. His drink of choice was a double shot of espresso, which he drank sans sweetener or creamer. His wardrobe was all black and shades of grey, and he wore beat up combat boots even in the sweltering heat of summer. On his right thumb he wore a thick sterling silver ring, and a tiny diamond stud earring sat in his left earlobe. He constantly tucked his blonde chin length hair behind his ear, only to have it immediately flop across his forehead. He was of average height and build, yet there was nothing average about James Decker, at least not to me.

I found him interesting and so different from all the guys I was used to. He had a brooding quality about him that intimidated me; making him seem dangerous. Yet, there was something about his brand of peril that was stunningly attractive. My silent observation of him became a cherished routine of my summer days. He made for yet another needed distraction; a break from my harsh reality.

One day about a month after I'd started working at Twilight, the observation became interaction. I was wiping down the bar when I sensed someone standing near; possibly even watching me.

"Excuse me?" The masculine voice was smooth as silk.

I turned to find James, as expected, behind me holding an empty demitasse cup. Without thinking, I took it from him. "Refill?"

"Please."

I made my way around the bar to fetch him another espresso. I wasn't nervous because I'd spoken with him in that capacity, barista to patron, many times before.

"So, you go to Harrison, right?" he asked me as I scooped out the right amount of grinds.

"Yeah. I'm going to be a junior there," I answered over my shoulder, working the espresso machine.

"Do you know Conner Fielding?"

"I think so," I replied, wiping my hands on my hunter green apron. "Journalism guy with Flock of Seagulls hair?"

He smirked. "That's the one. He's my cousin."

"Seems nice enough." I finished his espresso and slid it across the bar to him. "I'll put it on your tab."

To my surprise he pulled out a bar stool and sat down on it, rather than in his customary spot on the blue-green sofa in the corner.

"I'm James. James Decker." He reached his hand out. Stunned, I shook it, slightly reeling from his touch. "And you're Bella. Though I must admit I don't know you're last name?"

"Swan. My last name is S-Swan," I stammered, turning a thousand shades of red. His slate blue eyes were intent on me. He had a way of looking at me as if I was a piece of abstract art that he was attempting to interpret. It was simultaneously disconcerting and thrilling.

"You like working here?"

"I do." Apparently in his presence I was a simpleton, capable of only one or two word answers.

His gaze was serious and intense, as if we were discussing our views on God, or something significant like that. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Mocha," I spat out, proving my simpleton theory. I could feel the heat rising in my face in embarrassment and self-loathing.

"A mocha girl, huh?" The corners of his lips twitched in amusement, as he held that same look of concentration and study in regards to my face. My heart raced in the wake of his unwavering gaze. A lock of gold hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes, temporarily giving me reprieve from them.

Capitalizing on the break, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I bravely forced myself to be conversational, and possibly even normal. "I like mochas, but just between you and me, I didn't even like coffee prior to getting hired." I smiled shyly, forcing myself to look him in the eyes.

His mouth curved into a smile. "Your secret is safe with me. So, Bella Swan, coffee barista who just barely likes coffee," he leaned in toward me, resting his elbows on the bar just inches from me, "what makes a girl like you tick?"

"I'm sorry?" Apparently I wasn't well versed in the language of flirt.

"What do you like to do? What are you passionate about?"

"That's a good question," I answered him timidly, as I thought to myself, "_I'm mostly passionate about a guy named Edward, and what do I like to do? Stay out of my house and away from my depressed father as much as possible._"

"A good question that you don't readily have an answer for I'm guessing," he said teasingly. He spoke with the ease and maturity of a thirty year old, while I stuttered and blushed like the schoolgirl I was. On the bright side, at least I was forming sentences.

"I do have an answer, but it's not interesting really," I replied, biting my lip.

"Try me," he murmured; thereby giving the word "sexy" a definition in the Bella Swan mental dictionary.

"I like school. I read a lot. Mostly Jane Austin and such. I like to study. It's what I'm good at. As far as my passion goes, I haven't really found it yet." I looked down at the bar, noticing my hands were trembling a bit. Subtly, yet speedily I removed them from his line of sight.

"I like your answer. Refreshingly honest, though I must say I'm surprised by part of it."

"Let me guess," I ventured. "You're surprised I like to study because only airheaded bow-heads go to Harrison High?" There was a long-standing rivalry between our high schools. They thought we were trendy jocks and airheads. We thought they were bookish freaks and geeks.

"That wasn't where I was going. Never been much on stereotypes." He eyed the big white bow holding up my ponytail as he spoke. "I was actually surprised about you not having a passion."

I looked at him inquisitively.

"I've noticed you around here, Bella. You seem so sure of yourself. So deliberate in everything you do. I would've pegged you to know exactly what you like," his eyes locked on mine, causing a pleasurable tumult to course through me, "and exactly what you want."

And that's the moment I fell hard for James Decker - the real James Decker - and not just the mysterious guy from afar. He saw me as a confident, secure and together kind of girl, and I liked it. Actually I relished it. We didn't go to school together. We shared no bona fide connections outside of Twilight Coffee. He would never have to know my real story. It was feasible for me to be the girl he thoughtI was, and he'd never have to be the wiser.

"So how about you?" I eyed him thoughtfully, in a strange newfound confidence. "What makes you tick?"

And so began a new exhilarating friendship. James and I talked off and on throughout the rest of my shift that day. The shifts thereafter, he parked himself at the main bar and we talked as much as we could while I worked. He sat and read his thick involved novels, wearing black horn rimmed glasses. As engrossed as he was in his reading, I could tell he was acutely aware of my presence and whereabouts within the shop. He'd slip in a smooth, seemingly nonchalant question here or there. I'd give my answer, hoping to seem nonchalant while frantically scouring my brain for the perfect rebuttal. I'd catch him watching me as I served other customers, and he'd unapologetically watch me more; sending my autonomic nervous system into a frenzy. He'd gaze at me, brooding and smoldering, as I'd coyly smile his way. It was innocent flirtation in its finest form; my first real taste of its deliciousness.

James made my summer interesting. Because of him, my work shifts flew by in a blink, and he'd leave me longing for more. Of him. Of the way I felt around him. In fact, in an attempt to recapture those feelings during my time at home, I went to the library and checked out books by Kierkegaard, Asimov and Tolstoy. In my spare time, I trudged though the novels he liked to read, struggling through them for the sake of expanding my mind. Or impressing James.

I was hunkered down under Our Tree reading, albeit very slowly, _The Cossacks_. It was admittedly not my cup of tea and rather boring, but every time I thought about putting it down, James would come to mind. Thoughts of his glib intellectual banter, and my lack there of, was all I needed to press on in my intellectual pursuit.

"Tolstoy. Seriously?" Edward's voice interrupted my concentration. "Whatever happened to those books that you love about the twins in California?"

"_Sweet Valley High_?"

"Yeah, those." He plopped down beside me, thumping my book.

"That was sixth grade, Edward."

"But _The Cossacks_? Come on, Bella. What's up with that?"

"I'm just broadening my scope a little. Looking into some different things."

"These different things wouldn't have anything to do with an elitist freak from Parker High, would they?" he said knowingly.

"His name is James and he might have introduced me to few new authors."

"So is he still stalking you?" A smirk played across Edward's lips.

"He doesn't stalk me. I work at the coffee shop he frequents. We're friends. Case closed."

"From what I hear he stalks you. Kind of creepy if you ask me."

"I didn't ask," I snapped, feeling my blood begin to boil.

Ignoring my testiness, Edward stretched his long arms in the air and opened his mouth in a wide yawn. "Talked to John Morris last night."

I thought about the condolences card John had sent me after mom died and how much it had touched me. A fleeting pang of sadness came over me. "Oh yeah? Where'd you see him? I miss that guy."

"I didn't see him. I called him."

"Okay?"

"He goes to Parker."

"I know that." My impatience was growing. "That's _why_ I miss him."

"Let's just say John helped me do a little reconnaissance work." Edward was decidedly cryptic, and he appeared to be enjoying it.

"Meaning?"

"Needed to find out a little more about your stalker. Didn't get a good vibe when I met him."

"That's ridiculous. You talked to the guy one time for like five minutes." Then as the realization dawned on me that Edward had been snooping into my business like some overbearing big brother, I became aggravated. "What made you think I needed you to check up on him anyway? I never asked for your help. For your information, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Well you'll be glad I did," he went on, completely ignoring my proclamation of independence. "According to John, you won't meet a bigger player."

"Hello pot, I'm the kettle and you're black," I replied pointedly.

He rolled his eyes, miffed. "_I _date around a lot. James is a _player. _Uses and abuses. All I know is I'd steer clear of the guy."

"We're just friends, so whether or not he's a_ player," _I mocked Edward's intonation exactly, "makes no difference to me."

"Bells, don't be naïve. He's into you and he's just waiting for the right moment to pounce. I just want you to be ready."

"Whatever, Edward," I huffed, burying my nose in my book to mock read.

He jumped to his feet agilely while glancing at his watch. "Well, I gotta go mow. Mrs. Thompson's waiting. Catch ya later?"

"Mrs. Thompson?" I looked up from my book. "She's the one who likes to sit on her porch and sip iced tea while she watches you mow, right?"

"That's the one." He grinned crookedly, his face reddening slightly. "I'm feeling generous today. Maybe I'll mow shirtless." He winked at me and with that he was off.

Suddenly endeared by him, I watched him jog toward his house, thinking how difficult it was to stay irritated at the guy. The fact that I couldn't stay irritated, only irritated me more! With a sigh, I returned my attention to the blur of words on the pages in my hand.

I went to my shift at Twilight later that night, mentally prepared to casually discuss _The Cossacks_ with James. I was fairly certain he'd be there for at least part of my shift. At least I hoped he'd be. Working wasn't nearly as fun without his palpable presence filling the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, he wasn't there when I clocked in, and my night was stale and ordinary. But with only thirty minutes left until close, he sauntered in, looking dangerously handsome. There was a certain glint in his eyes that I couldn't name at the time. He made his way over to me where I was sweeping the floor.

"Hey, Bella Swan." His voice was languid.

"Hey yourself."

He raised his hand up to the collar of my shirt and smoothed it down. The proximity of his hand made my heart race within me.

"So, I'm on my way to this party. I was thinking you might wanna go too?" He never once took his eyes off mine.

Resolving to remain calm and collected I exhaled purposefully. "When is this party?"

"It started at ten, and I'm headed there now." He smiled a lopsided grin. "You in? Because I'd love it if you were in."

"Why not? How about I meet you there after my shift?" I replied without thinking, hoping to come off way more relaxed than I could or would ever be.

James was officially taking our relationship outside of the confines of Twilight. Leaving our little caffeinated bubble of flirtation made me nervous, but it seemed like a natural progression I was ready to explore. I had no car or any kind of firm plan on how to get to this party, but somehow details didn't matter under the inspection of those slate blue eyes.

"Perfect," he practically purred. "It's out at that abandoned warehouse on I-27 and Millhouse. You know the one?"

I nodded, fighting the urge to ask if we might get in trouble for partying in an abandoned warehouse. Cool, confident Bella, who knows what she wants, wouldn't worry about such things. So I swallowed down my reservations.

He leaned in, his warm breath caressing my neck below my ear. "Don't be long."

"I won't," I muttered, unsteadily. I'd never been so close to a guy before, unless wrestling with Edward as kids counted. It didn't.

He gave me a lazy grin and left the shop through the back entrance, leaving me dizzy in the wake of our little encounter. I finished my closing duties in record time and convinced my coworker, Marti, who usually drove me home after work, to give me a ride to the party. I primped my look the best I could on the ride there, helpless to rid myself of the smell of java. I figured there were worse things to reek of. Besides, James loved coffee; the stronger the better.

Marti dropped me at the party, almost literally, barely even putting the car in park to let me out. Her Ford Probe peeled out and eased back on the road, leaving me standing in a cloud of dust. Coughing, I knew I was going to that party, and there was no turning back.

The warehouse sat in the middle of nowhere just outside of town. Scores of cars flanked it, haphazardly parked in every which direction. I could hear the steady thumping of music coming from the dilapidated structure. I stood before it, thinking for only for a moment what a bad idea it was for me to be there. It was the most un-Bella of things I could do: to meet a risky boy in a derelict warehouse, full of people I didn't know, where alcohol and God only knows what else, was likely liberally flowing. I threw caution to the wind desiring nothing more than to be un-Bella. I wanted to be the girl James had conjured up; poised and sure.

Ignoring the chaos in my gut, I swiped on one last coat of lip-gloss and resolutely headed into the party. My own words to Edward from earlier that day echoing in my head with each step, _"I am quite capable of taking care of myself_."

The inside of the warehouse was dark and dingy, only lit by camping lanterns positioned randomly around the place. Even so, the night sky outside illuminated by moonlight alone, was brighter. I stepped through the door, immediately finding a red disposable cup thrust into my hand by some girl I didn't know.

"Thank you," I yelled, my voice completely inaudible to her over the blaring music. Peeking inside of it, I inhaled, wrinkling my nose at the pungent tang of some kind of alcoholic mixture. I didn't intend to drink it, but I held the cup casually, thankful for a prop.

I meandered through the masses of kids, bumping shoulders with someone every two seconds. Many of them looked quite a bit older than me. Whether that was because they seemed so at ease drinking and smoking, or because they were physically more mature, I couldn't quite decipher. One group of them were sitting on the ground passing around what I was sure to be a joint. I'd only seen one on T.V., but it looked exactly as I would have imagined. Each person took a long drag off of it, closing their eyes and almost wincing. Then they'd soak it in, passing it on to their neighbor. It gave off a thick sweet sage-like smell that I never forgot.

Several couples were making out against the warehouse walls, and I even saw one girl's boob. Most of the people there were huddled in groups, nursing their red plastic cups, with a Marlboro dangling from their lips as they talked; looking nonchalant and so much like the James I'd come to know.

One thing I knew for certain, it was not my scene. As a girl with a very innocent bent as far as the ways of the world were concerned, that party left me wide eyed and mystified; a regular Alice in Heathenland.

I shouldn't have gone there alone. I shouldn't have stepped foot in the place. And I probably should have altogether feared it more. Yet, taking it in as an observer and not a participant made it less daunting for me, even if deceptively so.

Sure, I'd been to parties before, but this was a _party, _and ready or not_, _I was in the middle of it. I was in the thick of probably seventy-five people, most of who favored dark toned clothes in a poorly lit room. This made finding James all the more difficult.

When I'd nearly covered the perimeter of the place, regretting my decision to go there, I felt two hands come from behind me grasping me firmly on either side of my waist. I whirled around and found myself face to face with James. He couldn't have been three inches from me.

"Hey, coffee girl." Musty smoke and alcohol assaulted my nose. "You made it."

"I made it." I smiled, glad that because of his nearness I didn't have to yell.

He grabbed my red cup from me, took a sloppy gulp out of it, and placed it back in my hand. Then he reached down and found my other hand. He brought it up to his mouth and brushed my palm with his bottom lip, sending a thousand chills down my spine. "So, you wanna go outside? I could use a breather."

"Sure." We walked hand in hand to the back entrance. I kept pushing back thoughts that un-Bella wouldn't entertain, such as _he's sure moving quick tonight_. _Barely said three words and he's already sucking on my hand_.

I willed my thoughts away with a squeeze of his hand. He responded by leaning over to me and nuzzling my ear as we walked together.

When we finally made it outside, heedlessly bumping into at least twelve people on our quest toward the door, the music once again became a distant thumping. The fresh air tasted delightful. The stark contrast caused me to realize how smoky the interior had been. I hoped we wouldn't have to go back in there, my inner Bella telling me that it couldn't be good for my lungs.

James grabbed me by the waist again, this time from the front. Then he hoisted me up onto the hood of a nearby black Beretta.

"Do you know whose car this is?" I squeaked out, taken aback.

He had touched me more that night, than in our entire four-week friendship. I knew I should have been completely thrilled by it, but a big part of me was unsettled by his touching. Or more precisely, his touching without permission.

"Nah." He grinned, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it up.

He nestled into me, forcing me to spread my legs so he could wedge himself between them. There was barely any distance between our bodies. "So, Bella Swan, whatcha wanna do?"

His eyes were sultry and intense. I was pretty sure, even in my inexperienced naiveté, what he wanted to do.

I shrugged my shoulders, shaking my head as he offered me a drag off of his cigarette. He leaned in toward me, whispering with hot stale breath in my ear, "If you don't have any ideas, I could give you a few." Then he flicked my ear lobe with his tongue.

I pulled away, finding his eyes. "I read some Tolstoy."

"And she's smart to boot." This time he ran his hand up my thigh; dangerously close to no-man's land.

I grabbed his hand and pushed it away. "I got about half way through _The Cossacks_."

"You'll finish it," he murmured, running his nose across my jaw line. "You seem like a girl who finishes what she starts." Funny how something that would've fascinated him and launched him into a ten-minute literary monologue at Twilight, just bounced off of him that night.

He took one last drag off his cigarette, then flicked it to the ground, not bothering to stomp it out. Of course, I worried he'd start a brush fire in the nearby field. He moved his hand to my back, running it up and down the length of my spine. Then he fished one hand up under the bottom hem of my shirt.

I immediately grabbed his hand and changed its trajectory. This, however, didn't thwart him for long. His hand found its way up my shirt again in no time at all. This time I clutched his hand forcefully and held it at his wrist. Digging into his skin with my fingernails, I hissed, "Get your _filthy_ hands off of me!"

"Whoa." He stepped back, holding his hands out innocently. "What's with _you_?"

"What's with _me_? What's with me?" I crammed un-Bella back into my pocket, in the moment considering her highly overrated. Seething with anger, I jumped down from the car. "What makes you think you can just touch me wherever you want to? Where did you get the idea it was okay to fondle me, without asking me if it was okay? And why, _why_, would you blow that nasty smoke into my face?"

He took a step or two away from me, backing up slowly as if I was a caged animal. "Take it easy. No harm, no foul. I just thought we were into each other. I mean the way you lead me on every day at the coffee—"

"Don't you even go there," I interrupted him mid-sentence. "You _know_ I didn't lead you on. I served you your pretentious little coffee, listened to you ramble on about your all important and totally boring novels, and we flirted here and there. So don't you even act like I had anything to do with," I waved my hand between us, "this."

"Fine, whatever you say." His looked at me like I was insane, and his tone was condescending. I knew it and I wanted to knock him off his high horse, but something inside me told me it wasn't worth it. Instead I strapped my purse across my chest, put one foot in front of the other, and began walking in the darkness in the middle of the night to nowhere in particular.

Behind me, I heard him mumble a few choice words under his breath and I think he kicked the ground.

Just as I assumed, James didn't come running after me in contrition. He headed right back into the party, likely to find another girl who would be a more willing participant. I was sure he wouldn't give me another thought, ever again, because he hadn't gotten what he wanted from me, and I'd made it clear he wouldn't.

I decided to head east, remembering there was a truck stop in the vicinity of the warehouse. Just how close or how far this truck stop was, I didn't know for sure. But I had no other choice but to hoof it. Otherwise I was stuck with James at a party I didn't belong at in the first place.

Hot tears stung my eyes as I trudged down the dark road. I was angry at James for thinking I was that kind of girl. I was livid he would try to use me like that. I was frustrated at myself for buying his act at the coffee shop, and thinking we shared some kind of deep cerebral connection. Truth was, all along he probably just hoped to conquer the frigid little barista. I'm sure he saw me as quite the challenge, an innocent little bowhead from Harrison High. I felt the fool - the naïve, stupid little fool. My entire body ached in that identity.

It took me an hour to reach the truck stop. My feet were throbbing and I could barely keep my eyes alert and focused. I located a phone booth knowing exactly whom I had to call. Phoning my dad wasn't an option. I had no desire to, and even if I had it was highly unlikely that he would even hear the phone ringing in his nightly Jack and coke-induced stupor.

Alice wasn't a viable choice either. She was on a family vacation in colonial Williamsburg. Or in her words, on a quest to find a hot Revolutionary War re-enactor. Since I didn't have enough cash to pay a cab, I was left with one viable option. Edward.

I dialed his number slowly, prolonging the inevitable, while praying he'd answer the phone before his mother did. After two rings, I heard the sound of the receiver being picked up and then fumbled around.

"Hello." Hearing Edward's groggy voice filled me with relief.

"Hey."

"Bells?" His voice was rough and slurred. "What time is it?"

"Around 1:30."

"You okay?" he murmured through a yawn.

I paused, silently questioning if I was really was okay. "I think so. I sort of need a ride."

"You still at work?"

"I'm at Handy Truck Stop on I-27 and Rhine."

"What? Why?"

"Could you just come get me?" I replied hurriedly. "I'll explain later."

"Yeah. Okay. Be there in a minute."

I hung up the phone and headed inside the truck stop to wait for Edward. Using the two dollars in my wallet, I paid for can Coke and a dried out danish. Mindlessly nibbling and sipping, I eyed several burly looking truckers sitting near me. For the first time that night, I felt an appropriate amount of fear.

A very lingering fifteen minutes rolled by before Edward pulled up in his mom's white Buick Century, which we had nicknamed Casper. The moment I spotted him, I jumped up, exited the truck stop and scurried toward him.

"Hey," I said, as I hastily jumped into the car. I shut the door and locked it, relief washing over me as I felt truly safe for the first time that evening.

"Thanks," I replied apologetically, noting Edward's haphazard just-woken-up-in the middle of the night look. His Texas Rangers ball cap was turned backward on his head, and he had on his glasses, which he hated and never wore in public. His bright orange Grace Trail t-shirt and maroon athletic shorts were wrinkled and clashed horribly. He was driving barefoot which I found to be slightly weird.

Who was I to talk? I was the one hanging out with truckers at two in the morning.

"So you gonna explain how you ended up at a truck stop outside of town? Last I heard you were working a shift at Twilight." He put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking space.

Ignoring his question, I asked him the one burning in me, "What did your mom say about you taking her car and coming to get me at this time of night? Or is it morning?"

"It's technically morning. And she doesn't know I'm here."

"You snuck out?" I asked him, incredulous.

"Not really. I left her a note on the kitchen counter telling her I had to go get you after a late shift at the coffee shop. If you didn't know it," he looked over at me pointedly, with eyebrows raised, "y'all had a band play tonight so the shop stayed open extra late for the show."

Lowering my eyes, I cringed. "You lied to your mom for me?"

"Maybe a little. But chances are she won't have to know I did. I'm thinking she'll never know I left the house in the first place."

Our eyes met and I smiled contritely. "I won't put you in that position again. I promise."

"Why don't you tell me why you put me in that position tonight?" His expectant gaze shifted from the road to my face and back to the road.

"I went to a party at the old auto parts warehouse on Millhouse. Just south of town."

"Okay?"

"Then I decided I didn't want to be at the party anymore, so I walked to the truck stop."

His mouth dropped agape. "You walked down the highway in the middle of the night by yourself?"

"I guess so."

He gripped the steering wheel tensely. "How did you get to the party in the first place?"

"Marti dropped me off after work."

"And she just left you there?"

"Uh-huh. I was meeting someone there who I was pretty sure would give me a ride home."

"So, why didn't they?" He eyed me suspiciously.

"We had an argument." I stared out my window, unwilling to take in his quizzical face.

"So you went to a party by yourself, which is totally not something you would do, by the way, had an argument and hoofed it several miles to a truck stop?"

"Pretty much," I answered him casually, as if the order of events was typical for me.

He rolled his neck and licked his lips. "Bella, cut the crap. I got out of bed, stole my mom's car and came to get you without asking any questions." He leveled me with his emerald eyes. "Just tell me what happened already."

I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. "You were right about James, okay? He is a player, a complete jerk of a player. So just spare me the _I told you so_. I promise you that whatever you might have to say to me about it, I've already said to myself, plus a lot more." My eyes welled with tears. I kept my head down, hoping Edward wouldn't notice them.

"_What_ did he do to you?" he hissed through his teeth, apparently unconcerned with making me eat crow. His jaw was clinched, making the angle of it ever more defined.

"He just got a little," I hesitated, "a little handsy."

"Exactly _how_ handsy?" The knuckles of his hand that gripped the wheel were blanched.

"It was nothing. I handled it."

"Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine. No harm, no foul." As the very words James had used left my lips, I inwardly winced.

"My ass," Edward seethed, his face flushed in anger. "_What_ did he do to you?"

"I told you I handled it. He didn't do anything. I left before he could."

"I am telling you right now, I can't be held responsible for what I do to that guy if I ever run into him." He punctuated his proclamation by hitting the steering wheel with his hand.

"Please just calm down."

"He took advantage of you, Bella!"

"It's no big deal. I told him to stop and he did. End of story."

His full lips were tightly drawn together in a thin tight line. "It is too a big deal. It's bad enough that he tried to…" His voice trailed off. "But then he just lets you walk by yourself on the highway. I mean, Bella, do you get all the things that could've happened to you?" He turned to face me and his eyes were panicked.

"But nothing happened. I'm fine." I reminded him calmly.

Shaking his head in disgust, he turned his eyes back toward the road, his countenance a hardened mask of worry and concern. "I have half a mind to go find the jerk right now. After I got through with him, I promise you he'd never bother you again." The muscles in his jaw shifted as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.

"He's not worth it, Edward. Besides I'm pretty sure he and I are over. Not that we were ever really a thing anyway."

"And that's a good thing."

"I know it is. But I feel like such a fool anyway," I whispered. "To think a guy like that would be interested in me. For me."

"Bella, _you_ are not the fool."

"But don't you get it? I am. If not for thinking he really liked me, then for ignoring my gut. Deep down, I knew you were right about him. I just wanted him to be something he wasn't and _I _wanted to be someone I'm not. The way he treated me at the coffeehouse…it was as if the Bella who has no mother, who has this crappy life, didn't exist. I got to be someone different for awhile and I liked it."

Using the backside of my hands, I feverishly wiped a fresh wave of tears off my cheeks. Edward reached into the console between our seats and handed me a tissue. I used it to wipe under my eyes and then loudly blow my nose. Then I settled into my seat, leaning my head back and resting my burning eyes.

"If it's okay with you, I'd rather not talk about it anymore."

"That's fine. I'm just sorry that it happened to you, Bells," he whispered, softly squeezing my shoulder with his hand. "Things like that shouldn't happen to someone like you."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I lacked the strength to question him about it.

We drove the rest of the way home wordless, letting the music from the radio provide our soundtrack. Since we were in Edward's mother's car, the dial was set to easy listening. The Muzak version of _You've Got A Friend_ filled the space around us, making me roll my eyes in its cheesy timeliness.

He pulled the car into his drive ten minutes later. Before I let myself out, I had one more thing to say that couldn't wait. "Edward?"

"Yeah?" He glanced over at me with tired, red eyes, looking every bit as weary as I felt.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For lots of things, including dragging you out of bed to come pick up the pieces of my mess once again. But mostly, I'm sorry for saying you were a player like James." His eyes met mine, and the unspoken, undeniable connection we shared pulsed between us. "Because even on your very worst day, you're_ nothing_ like him."

His eyes softened, briefly looking more alive than the hour allowed them to be. His lips drew up into a kind smile. I returned it, meek and thankful.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but clamped it down as if he thought better of it. "Night, Bells."

"Good night, Edward."

***

I went back to work the following Monday, anxiously wondering if I'd have to see James again. He showed up in the middle of my shift, wearing sunglasses indoors like some kind of celebrity. Twilight was not that big of a coffee house, but we managed to aptly avoid one another. He got his espresso from the other barista and snuck off to the corner to read his novel and brood. It was an uncomfortable day, but I lived to tell, which lead me to believe the shifts after it would only get better in that regard.

As he got up to leave later that afternoon, he briefly removed his shades. I happened to be looking at just the right time to catch a glimpse of a big shiner around his right eye. My eyes widened at the sight of it, and an unavoidable grin overcame my face. I turned away quickly so he couldn't see me, as a mental picture of Edward's bruised and slightly split knuckle flashed through my mind.

Edward had brushed it off when I'd inquired about the injury, vaguely attributing it to a mowing accident. Connecting the dots, I realized my best friend had defended my honor. Not because I needed him to, but simply because he saw fit to do so, and that, I could live with. I smugly gloried in the absolute vindication and chivalry of it all.

I decided the ending of my story with James Decker was actually quite like a fairy tale, though it didn't play out exactly in storybook form. In my personal version, the bad guy was an arrogant intellectual from the high school across town, who was really just an idiot when it all was said and done. The white knight was actually the boy next door. He had a steed, but its name was Casper and it was actually an American made car. He'd gallantly protected my integrity, not through a joust or a sword fight, but rather in a fist to the face. Certainly, the details of it all weren't frivolous or extravagant, but to me they were the stuff of fairy tales all the same.

* * *

**I worked at a coffee shop for 2 years, but I never met someone like James Decker there. Instead, I met my husband of 11 years! He had me at, "Can I have a hot chocolate?" :) Oh, and my apologies if you have this on alert and you received 3 of them. Weird, right??? Hopefully that won't happen again.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

author's note: By this point you already know, BUT Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU. You will see many characters from the Twi-universe, but the focus is the relationship btwn Edward and Bella. Rated M for adult/"heavy" situations. (If this were a movie, it would be rated PG-13.)

**My beta (the AWESOME klarsen18) and I decided that it would be best to split this chapter into 2 parts. For some reason I am getting wordier as this thing goes on! **

**Chpt. 11 takes place in E and B's junior year in 1991. **

* * *

**Chapter Eleven –Part 1: The Upside of Kryptonite (1991)**

"She's beautiful. Beyond beautiful." I was perched on my beanbag eating M&Ms and watching Julia Roberts portray Vivian; the most wonderful, most likeable call girl ever known to the world.

"She may just be the most perfect woman alive." Alice looked up at me with wide sincere eyes.

She was lying on her stomach on top of my bed. Her face was glued to my tiny T.V., whose picture annoyingly alternated between color and black and white. She only let her eyes stray over to me every now and then so we could talk about all things Julia.

"She makes being a prostitute look glamorous." I ran my fingers through my straight brown hair and wondered if Ogilvie and auburn hair dye could make a Julia out of me. Then I quickly concluded that even if I could pull off the hair I'd have to find a way to get an effervescent toothy smile and rocking body. Impossible.

"You people work on commission, right?" Alice started in, channeling her best Vivian. She quoted the movie lines flawlessly in sync with Julia as they played out before us.

"Yeah." _I _channeled my best snooty Rodeo Drive sales assistant.

"Big mistake. Big. Huge. I have to go shopping now." Alice finished grandly, nailing our very favorite line of the movie verbatim.

All eleven times Alice and I had watched my new VHS copy of _Pretty Woman_, we ended up randomly quoting lines as we watched. Somehow, Alice always ended up taking the role of Vivian, while I was whoever else happened to be in the scene. It irked me a little, but when it came down to it, it made way more sense for Alice to portray the hooker.

"I _love_ what Julia has on in this scene," Alice gushed, using a new accent she'd adopted that hinted at British. "Total class."

"I like it too, but my favorite outfit is the brown sleeveless dress with white polka dots she wears at the horse…"

I didn't get to finish what I saying because Alice vehemently shushed me. I knew without having to look, that Barney, the manager of the posh hotel had appeared on screen. Most girls, including myself, were all about Richard Gere. Alice only had eyes for Hector Elizondo, who she called _mature_, _superhot and Latino_. In other words, he was her version of the triple threat. For that week anyway.

"You are so weird," I laughed, chucking an M&M at her, barely missing her right eye. "But I love you anyway."

"What's not to love?" she said through a giggle as she reached down from the bed and thumped my head lightly. Then she ruffled my hair, which she knew I loathed, because I had the kind of hair that didn't just fall into place.

She managed to do all of this while not once taking her eyes off Hector. Then still without looking at what she was doing, she skillfully reached into my bag of candy and grabbed a handful, which she shoved into her mouth in one fell swoop.

My Alice was one of a kind.

I nonchalantly smoothed my tresses back into place and snuggled into my beanbag. Just as I was preparing to become engrossed in my favorite scene of the entire movie; the one where Edward takes Vivian to the opera, I heard my window slide open. Edward just barely maneuvered his tall sinewy frame through the confines of it.

"Hey," he said, as his feet landed on my carpet. "What up?" Then he turned to shut the window behind him.

"Hey," Alice and I mumbled in unison, without even bothering to look at him.

He glanced over at what we were watching, and out came the requisite groan, followed by, "Not again. What is this? You're sixteenth time?"

He plopped down heavily on my bed next to Alice and the mattress wobbled, which thoroughly annoyed her. She snatched the remote from my side table, as she dramatically rolled her eyes and pushed the pause button in a very over-pronounced movement.

_Here we go again. _I thought to myself, preparing for a Saturday afternoon verbal sparring match.

"Nice Kurt Cobain look," Alice said flatly, while eyeing Edward's clothes with a look of disdain.

"It's not the Kurt Cobain look." His chest puffed out a bit and he sat up straighter. "It's a flannel shirt and hiking boots."

"Same difference," she huffed, with her mouth in a scowl. "Ever heard of the grunge movement, Edward?"

"I don't know, _Alice_. Ever seen what people wear who camp and hike?" His lips were a thin line and his jaw was firm. He was already near his boiling point after only three minutes in her presence. Things were definitely not looking good.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you are like this Grizzly Adams guy now."

"You've got to be freaking kidding me," he replied through a clenched jaw to no one in particular. Then he looked quite pointedly at me, his eyes widening slightly. He was nonverbally employing me as referee, whether I was up for it or not.

For the past few months I had served in this role more often than I'd like to admit. My two best friends simply did not get along. Part of it was just a personality clash. And part of it had to do with the fact that Edward felt like Alice "treated me like crap and didn't deserve me."

On the other hand, Alice harbored ill feelings toward Edward, as she believed he was "selfish and spent his life taking from me and never giving back."

Who could really determine the true genesis of their animosity? Perhaps it was a combination of all of the above, plus just some good old-fashioned competition. In our case, it was invariably true that three's a crowd.

"Okay you two," I interjected, feeling totally like the mother of two toddlers. "Break it up. I'm so over the constant bickering already."

Alice rolled her eyes for the fifteenth time and snatched the M&M's bag from me. Edward sat tensely on the side of my bed staring a hole in my wall while his knee bounced up and down in a rapid rhythm.

"So Edward," I said calmly, very intentionally redirecting us. "Did you get it?"

"Did he get _what_?" Alice inquired. She hated nothing more than being out of the loop, whether it was a loop she belonged in or not.

"His car." I looked over at her trying to include her in our conversation, feeling more like a mediator, counselor, or maybe even a Kindergarten teacher by the minute. "Or is it a truck?" This time I looked at Edward.

"The El Camino is a _truck_. And yes, I got it," Edward muttered, rubbing the back of his neck briskly.

I squealed and clapped my hands in excitement. "So does that mean I get to go on the maiden voyage? Please say I do!"

He shook his head with his eyes closed, as a smile--one he was clearly trying to fight back--crept across his face. "Yes, Bells, you get to go on the _maiden voyage_."

Then he took a deep breath and with a very efforted voice said to Alice, "And you can come too if you wanna."

Granted it was forced and insincere, but my heart swelled with pride at Edward, knowing just how incredibly difficult that little gesture had been for him. Taken aback, Alice's brown-black eyes widened a bit and her countenance softened, but only for a millisecond. She quickly regained her composure.

"You guys go on without me. Might be a little, uh, _tight_ in there with the three of us."

Inwardly, I was relieved she didn't accept his invitation. It really would have been a tight fit in there, and it had nothing to do with the physical limitations of the cab.

"Al, you can stay here and finish the movie if you want. We'll be back soon."

"Okay, sure." She was already reaching for the remote and cramming her mouth with another handful of M&M's. She had the movie back on in no time, and was completely absorbed in it before we even left the room.

Edward and I headed out through my window, never once thinking to use my front door. When it came to us, the window was the front door. As we walked side by side down the yard, he mumbled incessantly under his breath, no doubt about Alice. The mumbling didn't stop until we came upon his prized possession.

It was a blue and white 1977 El Camino--the El Cam as we would come to call it. As it sat there in my driveway, a shining beacon of freedom to Edward, it proved the adage true that one's man trash is another man's treasure.

He had saved money for two years so he could buy himself a car. His mom certainly couldn't afford to buy him one. His dad was chronically strapped for cash as he supported his "replacement kids," as Edward called them, and a wife who had a penchant for the finer things. Edward determined he would get a car on his own, and on that chilly fall day, of our Junior year, he did just that. Granted, it wasn't the sliver 1988 Volvo he really wanted, but it was a vehicle and he'd secured it all on his own.

"I love it!" I exclaimed, as I took it in with my eyes.

I meant it with all my heart. It was old and slightly rusted, and truthfully a piece of junk. I really did love it because when I looked at it, I didn't see a beat up piece of metal. I saw the boy I loved and the hard persistent work he'd put in to buy it.

I opened the squeaky passenger side door, which took an inordinate amount of upper body strength, and hopped in. "And I like that it's low enough to the ground that I can easily get in." I added brightly. "Real trucks are a pain for short people like me."

"This _is _a real truck, Bella," he corrected me as he slid into the driver seat.

"I meant _tall_ trucks are a pain," I quickly backpedaled, making a mental note to never degrade the El Cam in that way again.

"You have to pull hard two times and really quick to get the seat belt to come out, otherwise it sticks." He demonstrated the process with the belt on his side. I copied what he did and thankfully managed to pull my mine out and click it in with only minimal effort.

"I brought a mix tape for us to listen to," I said cheerfully, fishing around for the cassette in my fake vinyl Dooney and Bourke. "I just can't do Skid Row today."

"And what's so bad about Skid Row?"

"You're on a music jag, Edward, and it's about to kill me. The heavy metal stuff makes me edgy and jittery. Worst of all it makes me feel like I need to clean something vigorously."

"What are you, 80 years old?" he jabbed.

I reached over, sticking out my middle knuckle, and punched his shoulder. He didn't move an inch. Not even a semblance of a flinch.

"Didn't I frog you?" I asked, disappointed by his lack of reaction.

"Not quite," he smirked. "But good try, Little Bit."

"Shoot!" I grinned, slapping the dashboard in mock frustration. "I was hoping to inflict some serious pain. By the way, you know how I feel about that nickname."

"I do know how you feel about it." He looked straight ahead of him out the front windshield, but I could see the smile in his eyes. "I'll work with you on proper frog technique again. In the meantime, what's on this mix tape of yours? Because I don't want to hear that one with all the Wilson Philips on it. Or the Paula Abdul one for that matter." He looked over, suspiciously eyeing my bright marker writing all over the tape case.

"Just relax, hater. It's mostly Depeche Mode_._" I clicked the cassette into the player, pleased with my choice of the perfect musical compromise. "Awesome stereo by the way."

"Mom gave it to me. I installed it this morning. She got it because she felt bad about not being able to get me a car."

"That was sweet of her."

"It was, but she can't afford stuff like this." He thumped the front panel of the stereo. "So it just makes me more pissed off at my dad, really."

I bit my lip. Truth was, I was angry at Edward's dad too. I didn't understand his choices. I didn't understand how he could watch his son and the mother of his child struggle and not lift a finger to make things better. How he could so shamelessly throw money at his new family, while holding onto it with such tight fists when it came to Edward's needs. His choices were ever a mystery to me. Between him and my dad, I was beginning to think all fathers were good at was disappointing their children.

Edward put the truck in drive and slowly pulled away from the curb. And the maiden voyage officially began.

"Did I tell you he got the child bride a BMW?" It was just one of many of Edward's nicknames for his step mother, who was at least fifteen years younger than his dad. It was one of his nicer nicknames for her actually.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Brand new and loaded." He shook his head in disgust. "His priorities are so out of whack I can barely look at him anymore."

"That ought to make your trip to Grace Trail next weekend nice and awkward."

"Yeah really." He rolled his eyes. "It's weird, but we do better together there. It's like the only place in the world where I actually don't despise him. I don't know if it's because we are hiking, and I love that so much, that it just makes him bearable? Or maybe he's just different in that setting because he's away from satan and her spawn?"

"Well whatever it is, I'm just glad y'all have that."

I stared out my window as we pulled out onto a main street. It was one I'd traveled down and seen a million times, but it felt different that day seeing it through the windows of Edward's new truck.

My thoughts drifted to my own dad and how I would've given anything to have even just a point of real connection to him. How pathetic it was to be jealous of what Edward had with his father, when it really wasn't enviable at all.

As if he could read my thoughts, he asked me quietly. "What's the latest with Charlie?"

"Who knows? He's started going to this bar for single people over fifty. Get this, it's called Finders Keepers."

"Finder's Keepers?"

"Yep. It's like this super gross bar for desperate old people. He goes there three or four nights a week."

"Well at least he's getting out of the house some?"

"It's not like he's going to a singles group at church." I leveled Edward with my eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

I softened my gaze, understanding that he was only trying to help. "It's just that this bar is so trashy. Lately I've noticed he has these match books and cocktail napkins in the junk drawer with women's phone numbers written on them."

"Ew."

"I know. I can't decide what's harder. Is it worse to imagine him with someone other than my mom?" I winced at the resulting mental image I barely had the imagination to conjure up. "Or it is harder to deal with the fact that a creepy singles bar can bring him out of hiding when his own daughter can't." My voice wavered at my last words.

"Bells, you know that's not how it is."

"Then _how_ is it exactly?"

"I don't know." His voice became noticeably softer. "His problems have nothing to do with you. He doesn't handle things as well as you do. He's sort of lost or something."

I just nodded my head and chewed on my lower lip, believing in my head what Edward said was true, but not in my heart. In the deepest part of me, I feared my dad's issue had everything to do with me. Maybe if I was different or a better daughter somehow, I could make him happy; or at least be someone worth paying attention to.

He examined my face with concerned eyes and then focused once again on the road. "Sometimes I wish I could punch him in the face for the way he treats you, or at least shake him real hard so he'll see what he's doing to you. Because I have to believe that if he could really see how much you hurt, he'd change."

"Thanks," I whispered. "But honestly, if he can't see that, he must be blind."

Talking about my dad, as always, left me feeling hurt and abandoned. Edward's concern and loyalty covered me with warmth and belonging. Certainly, these were conflicting emotions, yet they produced in me a consistent response, burgeoning tears. So I did what I'd become best at doing. I expertly swallowed them back, not letting them see the light of day.

Edward wasn't fooled. He reached over and grabbed my hand from my lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn't let go of it immediately though. His hand was warm and strong and it completely enveloped mine. Through just the feel of his skin on mine, I found myself comforted, yet confounded. How could the touch that gave me such console, also stir up in me such yearning?

I snuck a peek at his face, which was fast becoming more of a man's than a boy's. I fought the urge to simply stroke his chiseled jaw line, or to feel his hair with my fingertips.

He turned toward me and grinned with sympathetic green eyes. What I adored about the look, one I'd seen often before, was the complete lack of pity in it. He felt sadness for me and with me even, but he never pitied me. To me that meant everything. _I_ could pity myself, but no one else was allowed to do the same.

I returned the grin and let go of his hand with a squeeze, pretending to reach down toward the floorboard to find my purse. For some reason I wanted to be the first one to do the inevitable, which was to let go.

"Today is a momentous day, Edward Anthony Masen. A day to celebrate your long awaited car, um, I mean truck," I said brightly, changing my tenor on a dime. "We can't be sad today, right?"

"You're absolutely right," he agreed. "Which makes me remember that there is something in the glove box for you."

His eyes became playful and beaming. "Open it, Bells."

"What for?"

"Just do it. I promise it'll cheer you up."

As directed, I pulled on the glove box latch. It didn't budge. In fact, it almost felt welded shut. "Is it locked?" I asked through gritted teeth, as I continued to pull on it.

"Not so much." The slightest flash of frustration mixed with embarrassment shown in his eyes. Edward leaned across me, while still holding the steering wheel with his left hand. I caught the scent of him, Drakkar cologne and Irish Spring, and underneath both was the smell of Edward. It was something words couldn't explain, but something I just instinctually knew, and always had.

I subtly breathed in him. If his touch was what comfort felt like, his scent was what comfort smelled like.

He yanked on the latch and it easily gave way. "You must have loosened it up for me." He winked at me.

I silently wondered if he was purposefully doing every single thing he could do to make me crazy for him. Not that it took much, or anything really, other than Edward just being Edward.

"So." He raised his eyebrows. "Look inside?"

I pulled the door all the way down with a loud creek and peeked within. I saw insurance papers, a couple of road maps and at least fifty pieces of my all time favorite candy, Atomic Fire Balls, strewn about.

"No way!" Wide eyed, I stared at Edward who was grinning ear to ear, looking quite childlike and adorably impish.

"Yes way. Hand me one, will ya?"

I grabbed one for him and one for me. "I will _never_ refuse a ride from you now that I know what's in that glove box." I tore the clear wrappers off and put one into my mouth.

He took his Fire Ball from me and popped it into his mouth. "I figured I'd be giving you a lot of rides," he said with the candy stored in his cheek like a chipmunk, "so I wanted the El Cam to be stocked."

"How thoughtful," I managed. It was all I could say, and not just because my speech was impeded by the candy.

He cranked up the volume of the stereo and slid on his Aviator sunglasses, putting the _Top Gun_ version of Tom Cruise to shame. His bronze-brown hair shone in the sun, and he looked nothing short of beautiful.

He began to crank the handle on his door, rolling his window down just a fraction. Without missing a beat, he grabbed his well-worn fleece jacket sitting between us and threw it my way. Then I, also without missing a beat, put it around my shoulders.

We drove around not really requiring a destination. The only city I'd ever known sped by on either side of me. To my right I saw Swenson's, the ice cream parlor Edward and I had gone to when we were younger every Sunday night after church to share the Earthquake. This was a colossal dessert involving ten scoops of ice-cream. Then we passed my old dance studio. The sight of it made me regret that I'd ever quit taking lessons. Next we passed the public library where Edward busted his chin open trying to do a fancy skateboard trick during his _Gleaming the Cube_ phase. My mom's favorite fabric store came next. I could picture her perfectly, feeling all the reams of fabrics in pure contentment, as I hid inside the displays feeling like I'd escaped to another world. Then I saw Edward's dad's old office building looming ahead of us, and I chanced a look at him. His jaw line was rigid; his eyes narrowed. He promptly and sharply turned the car west, which put the building behind us and out of our view. His countenance relaxed almost immediately.

"Wanna get a coke?" he asked quietly.

"Can we go to Andrew's Drive-In and get the pellet ice?"

The corners of his lip twitched up into a smile. "Where do you think I'm headed?"

"Remember all those times we planned to ride our bikes to Andrew's so we could get an Oreo milkshake? We'd scheme our big escape with a pencil and Big Chief notebook."

"Oh yeah," he sniffed.

"And your mom or mine would always figure out what we were up to and put to an end to it. I still don't know how they knew. It's like they were omniscient or something."

"Or maybe we had absolutely zero skills in the secrecy department," he added cynically, looking at me over his sunglasses. "But seriously, Bells, it's a good thing they always caught us. We would've had to cross three major streets to get there and it's like four miles from our block. That would have been a beating."

"Not to mention seriously dangerous for two nine year olds."

"Still would have been fun though." He grinned at me playfully. "And with your bike skills, _you_ would've been the one to get hurt anyway."

"For the last time, it wasn't about my bike skills." I rolled my eyes, not believing that after so many years he still managed to fit the bike ramp incident into casual conversation. "It was that stupid ramp you idiots put together!"

"Guess I can't argue that." He laughed, briefly holding his hands up in surrender. "Anytime you use rotted ply wood as the main body of your ramp, somebody's gonna break a limb."

I couldn't help but giggle.

We settled into a relaxed silence. Depeche Mode's _Enjoy the Silence_, ever so fittingly filled the air as we enjoyed our Fire Balls; enduring the cinnamon-heat just to get to the sweet part. I decided life was quite a lot like this particular kind of candy. That very moment we were in, as we lazily cruised in Edward's truck, was definitely a sweet part.

A sweet part that came to a premature ending, however, as we pulled up to Andrew's Drive-In.

"Crap," Edward said roughly. "Lauren's there. I can see her car in the parking lot."

So instead of pulling in to get our cokes, he pushed down on the accelerator. What had been our destination came and went, and became a dot in the distance behind us.

"Why does it matter that Lauren is at Andrew's?" I asked, perturbed that her pristine Geo Storm was ruining our outing.

An image of Edward's latest girlfriend popped into my head: perfectly coiffed bangs, Girbaud jeans, sterling silver heart earrings and authentic Cole Haan loafers. She was the flawless poster child for everything 90's, and I loathed her for it.

"Sorry, Bella, but if she finds out you got to ride in the El Cam before her, I'm a dead man."

"Well that's ridiculous. Doesn't she know we're practically family and have been friends since birth?"

"Yeah, she knows. Doesn't matter."

"So _I_ don't get my coke because some girl can't handle that you and I are friends? We can't go to our favorite place with the awesome pellet ice, because you have an unreasonable high maintenance girlfriend," and I added under my breath "yet again."

"What's _yet again_ supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what it means." I looked out my window to avoid his gaze, as well as the fight we were but one word away from engaging in. "Just forget it, Edward."

He sort of huffed. I sort of huffed. We sat there, neither of us speaking, for several seconds.

Every time one of his girlfriends came up in conversation, Edward and I inevitably had a heated exchange. I would scoff at and disapprove of his choice in girls. All of whom I scoffed at and disapproved of only because I was insanely jealous of them. He, in turn would become ultra defensive about it. Essentially we'd just go round and round and end up doing nothing but making each other angry. We'd learned that our tiffs were useless, and for the most part, we did what we could to just avoid them altogether.

As was evidenced by Edward's next and very diplomatic question, "So, can I take you to get a coke from somewhere else?"

Granted, I didn't want to go into full-on battle with him that particular day, but I wasn't above making a point. "Nah, I'm suddenly not thirsty anymore."

"Aw, come on."

"I said I'm not thirsty anymore," I answered him decisively. "Let's just head home. You have a game to get ready for anyway, right?"

"That I do. You coming?" His tone was hopeful, yet guarded.

"I'll be there." As if there had really been any question.

"Awesome," he sighed out, clearly relieved. He flashed me a heart-stopping smile. "Wouldn't know how to play without you there, Bells. You're my lucky charm, ya know?"

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes amiably, as I melted right there in my seat. I couldn't help but think to myself, "_And you're my_ _kryptonite_."

My irritation over Lauren and the coke that got away, had almost completely vanished simply because I was in the vicinity of the boy next door. Edward's smile, his voice, and his eyes had the power to completely undo me, because they were my ultimate weaknesses.

_He_ was my ultimate weakness.

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**So Edward can be a total sweetie, but as you can see, the other women in his life bring major tension to his relationship with Bella. ...which brings us to Chapter 12: Part 2-The Downside of Kryptonite. I will post tomorrow.**

**Here is a link to the "Enjoy the Silence"...http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=dAN9sKlOZxE I spent A LOT of time cruising to this, "Somebody", and "Personal Jesus" :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

**As always, I can't thank my beta Klarsen18 enough. Man, her eye for detail amazes me!!!**

**author's note:** As promised, here is part 2. This chapter takes place on the same day as Chapt. 11 (junior year of High School, 1991)

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**Chapter 12- Part 2 The Downside of Kryptonite (1991)**

I went to Edward's game that night, dragging Alice along. She only agreed to go with me because she had a thing for the jazz band director and his total "music geek chic."

She watched him conduct the band in their renditions of _Shout_, _We Will Rock You, _and_ You Can Call Me Al_, with lovesick puppy eyes. She was so obvious about it, but luckily the team's bench sat in the general direction of her lovelorn stare, and it looked like she was gawking over a more usual suspect.

I convinced her to hang out with me for a bit after our team claimed their victory, to socialize, a.k.a. lurk outside of the gym so I'd be in position to see Edward. He always looked amazing post locker room shower.

Alice and I visited with friends for a while as I nonchalantly scanned the area for him. Other team members trickled out, but no Edward. Alice quickly became restless and suddenly craved taquitos. I wearily hopped in her bright yellow VW Bug and she dropped me home at my request, after a quick stop by the Taco Shack.

An hour later I climbed out my window with a Tupperware full of homemade cookies, and began to walk the well-tread path toward Edward's house. I figured a batch of his favorite Snickerdoodles would be a friendly reward for a game well played, not to mention a suitable peace offering. We'd hadn't fought that afternoon, but it had been tense all the same.

It was quite dark outside, but the moonlight provided enough illumination for me to traverse a path I knew by heart. As I neared Our Tree, I heard a rustling sound. It was a strange muffled noise that I couldn't quite place. When I took a couple of steps closer, I could vaguely make out two bodies lying on the ground side by side. What appeared to be a white blanket or some kind of cloth was wadded up to the right of them. I squinted my eyes to focus in better.

That's when I comprehended, to my horror, exactly what I was looking at. Edward's flannel shirt and jean-clad body was wrapped around none other than Lauren Mallory. She had on a tiny miniskirt, even in the autumn chill, and her tight blue sweater was pushed up to reveal her taut belly. Edward's hands were making themselves at home underneath her sweater, while she gripped the back of his neck firmly. I heard moaning, and I saw slow, fluid movement as they writhed against one another in physical synchronicity.

My breath hitched in my throat as my stomach dropped. I actually wretched. I wanted to run away immediately, but my feet were fixed in cement. I was frozen, transfixed, and subsequently repulsed by what played out in front of me.

When I finally convinced my feet to cooperate, I turned to run away, only to trip on some kind of root or rock. I managed to self-correct without face planting, but I dropped my cookie container to the hard ground below with a thud. My chances of making a quiet escape were slim to none. Even so, I scampered off without looking back and jumped through my window in record time. I closed it behind me and contrary to my usual routine, locked it shut.

The rush of adrenaline coursing through me had my heart racing a mile a minute. I was entirely conflicted by every feeling churning within me. I was angry, hurt and devastated. Accompanying those emotions was complete sadness, a lonely painful sadness. Then at a whole other level, was this unexpected sense of intrigue.

As disgusted as I was by what I had just seen, there was a part of me that wanted to know, was dying to know really, what it felt like to be Lauren. What I wouldn't have given to know what it felt like for Edward to hold me and enjoy me the way he was enjoying her. I wanted to be Lauren Mallory, and I wanted to feel Edward that close and know he wanted me and no one else.

As all these emotions pressed down on me, I rocked on the edge of my bed, waiting for the inevitable tears to come and overtake me. Strangely they didn't surface right away. My body was still physically hyped up and reeling, so I went with it.

First I yanked a piece of notebook paper out of a spiral on my desk, and scrawled on it in big bold letters, _GO_ _AWAY EDWARD_. Then I taped it to my window. Next I grabbed some thumbtacks from my desk and used them to secure a blanket over my window, creating a makeshift curtain out of it.

There was no way Edward was getting access to me that night.

Agitated, I flopped down on my bed and began frantically flipping through my latest issue of _Seventeen_. All the while wondering if and when Edward would come to my window.

After I had blazed my way to the back cover of the magazine, not once really registering what was on its pages, I threw it to the floor. Then I grabbed the remote and mindlessly turned on my TV. Sinead O'Conner, in all her baldness, was on MTV singing in her beautifully eerie way, _Nothing Compares to You_. That's all it took to push me over the edge.

My body finally gave way and I crumpled into a ball on my bed. The tears came fast and they came hard, making my customary crying pillow damp and gross. I sobbed and sobbed until the tears ran dry. I finally cried myself into a very deep sleep, only briefly stirring one time, at the sound of my dad coming home from the bar at 2 a.m.

The next morning I hazily woke up to a tapping on my window, knowing full well the source of it. It took me several minutes to decide if I would ignore him or face him. The whole avoidance route sounded most appealing to me in my raw state. However, as I had learned over the years, to avoid a boy who could see into your window from his house was a hopeless cause.

Throwing my sheets off of me, I grabbed a ponytail holder from my side table and gathered my hair up on top of my head. I made my way to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. There, I found a very exhausted looking, puffy-eyed girl staring back at me in the mirror. She was wearing a ratty _Don't Worry, Be Happy_ t-shirt and flannel PJ bottoms. Under normal circumstances I would have done a complete overhaul on my appearance, wanting to look pretty for Edward. That day I couldn't bring myself to care about pretty.

Gingerly, I pulled down my blanket curtain, unlocked my window, opened it up and stuck my head out. Edward was already sitting under Our Tree. He looked up with wistful eyes and sort of half smiled in my direction. I took a deep breath to prepare myself for battle, and eased out of my window.

My pace in walking over to where he sat was sluggish. It felt like my own personal green mile.

Once I got to him, he handed me an Andrew's coke, with the perfect pellet ice, and a bag of powdered sugar mini-donuts. I snatched them from him and sat down to his right, rather than in my customary position just to the left of him. I made sure there was an obvious distance between us.

He cleared his throat nervously. "So I'm guessing from the locked window and the _keep out_ note, you're pretty ticked at me?"

"Astute observation skills, Edward," I replied flatly.

"Look, Bells. I'm really sorry you had to see that last night. It must have been really, uh, awkward for you."

"You could say that." My voice was terse, yet probably not as icy as I would've liked for it to be. Being face to face with him had, as always, weakened my resolve a bit.

"I mean, you know I'm dating Lauren, and you knew that we um…" He ran his hand through his hair and then began biting his thumbnail. "You know that she and I mess around some, right?"

"I figured as much."

"So it's not like we shocked you or something?"

"Hardly, Edward. I'm well aware of how it is between you and any of your given girlfriends. But really _what _you do and _who_ you do it with is none of my business." I answered him razor sharp. "But _where_ you do it…" My voice trailed off as emotion squeezed my throat tightly.

Anger gave way to hurt with each word. I gripped my shirt over where my heart sat underneath. "But _where_ you did it. That's what hurt me."

The light of recognition flickered in his eyes, and the color drained from his cheeks. "I hadn't thought about that." His voice was almost inaudible.

I pointed to the grass next to where he sat. "That's _my_ spot. This is _Our_ Tree. Yet, you brought that slut here and did God knows what with her in _my_ spot."

"We didn't have sex, Bella."

Stunned that he would show even a shred of indignance, I lit into him. "The Edward I know wouldn't have brought some random girl here to Our Tree. Sex or no sex, you still made a joke of this place. I thought I knew you, but now I'm beginning to wonder. Are you…are you heartless?"

"Look, Bells. I shouldn't have brought her here and I get that. I made a mistake, but I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You were too thinking clearly, just with the wrong body part." I couldn't resist that one.

Shame colored his rigid, tense features. "You're right. But you have to understand, we had just won the game and Lauren was all over me. I got carried away. Caught up in the moment."

"Were you drunk too? Because I can't imagine getting so carried away that where I am doesn't even register with me."

"No, I wasn't drunk." He paused, rolling his eyes upward as he searched for words. "Bella, I don't think you really understand what it's like to get carried away like that."

I knew he wasn't intending to kick me when I was down, but that's exactly what he did. My inexperience with the opposite sex was a source of utter embarrassment to me, and to hear him articulate it out loud mortified me.

"So, Mr. Experienced," I spat, "why don't you tell me exactly how many times you've gotten _carried away_ and brought your skanks here?"

"That's not fair."

"Don't talk to me about fair. Seriously Edward, your lips are like a revolving door. Why wouldn't you have used this spot right here like it's the backseat of some car? In fact, since you just got the El Cam, maybe Our Tree has served that exact purpose."

"Now you're just being mean."

"Maybe I am. But you can't imagine how badly you hurt me. Does this place not mean anything to you? I mean come on Edward, our mothers brought us here as babies," I hissed harshly.

"Of course it does. It means the world to me, especially in the last few years. And for the record, Lauren's the only one I've ever brought here." His voice was serious and subdued. He looked visibly pained. "I would_ never_ hurt you on purpose."

I covered my face with my hands and took a several deep breaths. A dull throbbing on either side of my head just above my temples, warned me that a massive headache was on its way. Rubbing my head with a gentle pressure, I could only hope to stave off the unavoidable.

"Bella, would you just look at me?" His words were thick with emotion.

I continued to knead my temples.

"Just please look at me. Let's talk this out." His voice wavered.

I shook my head.

"Come on. You have to let me make things right."

I slowly faced him and found his intense emerald eyes piercing me. Pure kryptonite, indeed.

"What is there left to say?" I managed, frantically averting my eyes back to grass below us. I had to escape his powerful gaze.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. It kills me to hurt you." He let out a frustrated sigh and took pause for several seconds. "Do you understand, Bella, how protective I feel of you? I always look out for you. We look out for each other. But last night I screwed up. I messed up, and I hurt you. What I did was wrong. Can you please forgive me?" I could feel him staring at the side of my face awaiting a response of some kind.

"I want things to be okay between us. I _need_ things to be okay between us. Bells, tell me how to fix this? I'm begging you here."

My body trembled underneath me. I gnawed on my lower lip, contemplating what to do. His words, many of which had taken me aback, were already finding a home in my heart. I believed them to be sincere, his remorse true. I knew Edward too well. Had he been lying to escape a consequence, or to simply pacify me, I would have recognized it.

At the same time, the hurt in me pushed against his words of repentance. Part of me wanted to stand unyieldingly in my due anger. To punish him and make him pay dearly for wronging me and Our Tree.

Despite all that, I knew deep in my bones what I wanted to do. Maybe it's what was required of me, because just like Edward, I _needed_ things to be okay between us.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I did what was hardest, and swallowed my pride. As silent tears trailed down my cheeks, I whispered, "I forgive you, Edward." I glanced over pointedly at my spot on the grass. "But just so you know, I'll need more time to forget."

He simply nodded his head in agreement. I could see the regret and sorrow in his eyes and I felt sad for him. I was also glad to detect the remorse there. I desperately needed for him to know how wounded I was, and even more to understand why.

We remained under Our Tree for another half hour in the cool November air. A canopy of crisp autumn leaves, ready to drift effortlessly to the dying grass below, danced in the breeze. They were all amber brown, crunchy and dying, which seemed quite apropos to me.

Not much else was said that day because grievances had been aired, and all that was left to do in regards to them was heal. Small talk wasn't really an option either. It would have been a strange time to mindlessly chitchat. Quite like the idea of cracking jokes at a funeral.

So we quietly sat together sharing a bag of powdered donuts. Edward was perched in his usual spot, while I found myself anywhere but in mine. In fact, the next few times we met under Our Tree--before the harsh winter cold came and made our vistis few--I avoided my spot altogether. I figured I could provide Edward a loud and clear reminder of how he'd devastated me. That where I chose to sit or rather more precisely, _not_ to sit, might ensure that he remember to be careful with my heart.

It wasn't a vindictive move on my part. More than anything, it was a self-protective one. I was a pretty resilient girl who could take a lot of things, and the past couple of years had shown me just how much. But what I couldn't take, what scared me more than anything else in the world, was being hurt by Edward like that again.

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**end note: I am wondering what you guys think of the dynamic btwn E and B? Is he cruel, or she foolish? Or both???**

**PLEASE check out my profile page. I added some things: *music links to songs from Our Tree, including one from this chapter, and *I addressed the rating of this story, for those who are curious. I love you guys and thank you for reading! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

author's note: By this point you already know, but Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past.

**A big thanks to my beta, klarsen18!!!! And thanks to those of you for reading and reviewing. I get some awesome feedback, some of it very useful for making this story better (ManiacMotherland...you know what I'm talking about).**

**We are back to present day. And no, it's not time for Edward yet (she says, as she ducks and hides). If Bella were that near where Alice lives (E and A live about an hour apart), she would stop by and see her and try to process the mess she's in. She just would!**

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**Chapter Thirteen-Present Day (February 2000)**

I pulled up to Alice's quintessential suburban abode and smiled. She lived in an area right outside of Dallas, on a street of houses that looked quite alike, only differing from one another in brick and trim color. Alice had put her signature on the exterior of her home, by painting the door bright cobalt blue and placing unique, oversized, hand-tiled planters on either side of the door.

It was the middle of the day and I figured since she was a stay-at-home mom, I might happen upon her. I hadn't informed her of my trip and in showing up unannounced on her doorstep I would likely freak her out. It would be so out of character for me to knock on her door without warning, she would probably panic upon seeing my face. I should have called her because it was only courteous to do so, but I feared articulating the purpose of my visit out loud. Keeping my agenda covert and silent made it feel safer, even if falsely so.

I walked up her curvy sidewalk noting the rows of Caladiums, Alice's favorite, dotting the front flowerbeds. The yard itself was nice and neatly groomed, yet littered by a pink scooter, a pink tricycle, a pink shovel and a pink pail. Pink, it must be her twin girls' color of choice. The color pink and Alice had never meshed—she'd coined it predictable in the seventh grade--yet there she was literally surrounded by it. I laughed out loud at the irony of it. Then again, there was much irony to be found in what Alice's life had become.

I tentatively knocked on her door, wondering if I might wake the girls if they were napping. A minute later the blue door swung open to reveal my dear friend, newly pregnant and glowing in every way.

"Oh. My. Gosh!" she screamed, lurching out to grab me in a tight hug. Her body collided with mine. "Is it really you?" She pulled away while still embracing me to take a look at my face.

"In the flesh." I giggled, grabbing her face with my hands, just needing to touch her sweet skin.

"I messed up, didn't I?" Her voice was panicked and her features followed suit. "I thought you were coming in two weeks, but it's _this_ week isn't it?" She smacked her forehead with her hand. "This pregnant brain is gonna be the end of me."

"No, sweetie," I reassured her. "You didn't mess up. I'm here for something different today."

"Did you tell me about it and I forgot?" Her brow was furrowed, her full rosy lips set in a frown.

"I didn't tell you. It was a spontaneous trip actually."

"Well, good then. I thought I was losing my ever-loving mind! Please, please come in! I'm so excited to see your beautimous face!"

"You too, Al. You look radiant, oh pregnant one."

"Nope. Not radiant." She smirked, rubbing her burgeoning belly. "Just as big as a house, already. Guess the twins got my body ready to expand at a moment's notice."

"Speaking of the twins, where are my little angels?" I scanned the house for their presence, as my ears perked to detect the sound of playing.

"They're at Kids Day Out, which is just a very PC title, that makes what it really is, _Mother's_ Day Out, seem child centered."

"So, I guess I was lucky to catch you home?"

"Not so much. When they first started going to school, I would frantically run a thousand errands and be completely exhausted by the time they came home. No more. While they're gone I literally sit on my big butt and relish the silence. That, and I watch taped episodes of _Sex and the City_. " Her almond shaped brown-black eyes were serious. "I'm not kidding when I say Sarah Jessica Parker has been more than partially responsible for my sanity as a mother."

She'd spoken in jest. I could see a light in her eyes and a contentment there that told me, even in the stress and fatigue, raising her little ones was exactly where she wanted to be.

Quickly squeezing in another hug for good measure, I stepped into her funky-vibed house and breathed in my Alice. The place screamed of her creative energy and her individuality. With bright colors, bold designs and a mix of modern and vintage furniture. "I love this place, Al. It's just so you."

"Yep." She grinned playfully. "Alice Brandon Hale, bringing edge to the burbs, one piece of weird décor at a time."

She took my arm and led me to the bright plum velvet couch. I fell into its comfortable fold, and Alice positioned herself across from me in a zebra print armchair.

"So why are you here?" She asked leaning toward me attentively. "Are you going to one of those boring medical conferences where you earn, um, what are they called?"

"Continuing education credits. And no, that's not why I'm here." I fidgeted a bit where I sat, "I'll tell you why I'm here, but tell me about you first. How's Jazz?"

Her face softened at the mention of his name. "Busy as a bee. Seriously, he works like a dog, but he loves it still."

"He is an amazing guy. It takes a special man to do what he does," I added, referring to the fact that Jasper had decided to practice at an inner city hospital, delivering only the highest risk babies who had slim to no prenatal care.

"He is amazing." Her eyes darted to the side thoughtfully, and then she looked back into mine. "He's always had a heart for the underdog, right?"

"He sure has," I agreed quietly, knowing exactly what she meant.

"But back to you, Bells. Why in the world are you here?"

"I'm here to take care of some things actually."

"Do you need somewhere to stay?"

"No thanks. I have a hotel booked in Fort Worth. It's closer to my, um, appointment."

Her eyebrows knit together for a moment and she appeared to be thinking about something. Just when I thought I'd been made, the purpose of my visit uncovered, her eyes grew wide. "Oh my gosh! I almost forgot. Let me see it!"

"See what?"

"What do you think, silly? Your engagement ring!" She clapped her hands together daintily, squeaking quietly as she waited for a good look at it. A blush colored my cheeks as I held out my hand. She took my hand in hers and began to examine the ring with scrutiny. I might not have been shocked if she'd pulled out a jeweler's loupe.

As I watched her examine it in delight, my old companion, the gnaw, showed up in full force.

Surprisingly, my five-hour road trip had been pleasant and gnawing free. It was full of my favorite music mixes, a bag of skittles and gargantuan diet Coke. I hadn't allowed my thoughts to linger on the ultimate purpose of my trip. Rather, I chose to enjoy time on the open road, which translated into time away from reality.

The expanse between home and my destination was approximately 300 miles, which I viewed as 300 miles of neutrality and peace. Admittedly, it was escapism. I felt no guilt in that, seeing that I hadn't been able to escape anything, namely the gnawing, in weeks.

"This ring is gorgeous!" she exclaimed animatedly. "From the look of it, I'd say it's about two carats, and I'd guess he dropped twelve to fifteen thousand for it."

"I didn't need to know that," I moaned, conflicted by the truth that I wore something so valuable around as daily wear, in much the same way as I carried my $20 Target purse.

"Well, you're worth every penny." Her eyebrows were raised. "The sooner you figure that out the better." I cringed at her words, wondering how worthy she'd deem me after the truth came out.

She leaned in and began scrutinizing my face, just as she had my ring moments before. "What is it, sweetie? You're not okay and you have that Bella-angst look going."

"No I don't," I pushed back, forcing a weak smile.

"I'd know the look anywhere." She spoke confidently. "_What's_ going on with you?"

"Have I told you that sometimes I preferred the selfish version of you from our youth? The one with zero intuition and absolutely no attention span?"

"Yes, you've told me that," she replied, not missing a beat. "She still comes out from time to time, but you're out of luck today my friend. My attention is selflessly and fully on you, so spit it out already." She looked up at me from under a fringe of black lashes. It was a knowing look. "Why the angsty-ness?"

I decided to surrender. I could push back all afternoon, but I was certain she'd push back equally every time, leveling me with those dark, perceptive eyes. Ultimately I'd have to bear my soul to her at some point, and it was as good a time as any to get all the messiness over with.

"Well, lately things haven't been going very well," I edged into slowly.

"Oh, don't worry about that. Engagements are stressful and they make couples fight all the time. You should have seen Jasper and I. We almost killed one another." She smiled sheepishly. "Of course we had some added elements that contributed to it. But no worries. You guys will get through it. I promise."

"Actually, Mike and I are fine."

"Okay?" Her eyes were narrowed in confusion, as she cocked her head slightly to one side.

"It's just that…" Feeling flushed all over, I paused and took several concerted breaths. I might as well have been a little girl about to confess a wrongdoing to her mother. "It's just that I can't stop thinking about _him_."

"Him with a capitol H, as in God, I hope? Or him with a little h," she paused, "as in Edward?"

I covered my face with my hands. "The latter," I mumbled through my fingers, unable to watch her expression as my words took root.

"Oh, Bella." She stood up and joined me on the sofa, placing a firm arm around my shoulders.

"Are you disappointed in me? Because I know I am."

"Disappointed _for_ you? Yes. But in you? No. Never."

"Al, I am doing everything in my power not to feel the way I feel. I am dying to be completely in love with Mike. I want to be over the moon about this ring and the engagement. But there is nothing I can do about it. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. And I'm sure I'm going to have an ulcer soon, if I don't already. But I can't ignore my doubts."

"I've always thought you to be an old soul. Which kind of made you a drag sometimes when we were younger, if I'm being honest." She sent a gentle wink my way. "Then your mom died and you aged even more. You became like this 50 year old trapped in a teenager's body. You've always been leveled-headed, stable, and practical. If you have doubts about Mike, by all means and of all people,_ you_ should pay attention to that."

"You're right for the most part, Al. And just to be clear, being quote, unquote, an old soul, was no joy ride for me either. But you and I both know that when it comes to all things Edward Masen, I am the farthest thing from stable and practical. All rational thought is out the window. He has always had this crazy hold on me, and he still does." I gripped my stomach subconsciously, and whispered. "I'm helpless against it."

"Oh, sweetie." She gave my shoulders another squeeze and then let go of them, turning to face me. She hiked her legs onto the couch and positioned them to sit cross-legged. "Why didn't you call me about this sooner?"

I oriented myself toward her, in much the same way. We sat so close our knees touched. It reminded me of when we were young girls gabbing about boys and the latest gossip circulating the halls at school. Those days seemed so enviable to me in that moment, as the weight of the world sat on my very weary shoulders.

"I feel ashamed and humiliated, Alice. I am supposed to be over Edward. I _should_ be over him."

"You've always been good at 'should-ing' all over yourself, my friend. But seriously, please don't keep anything else from me. I want to be here for you, end of story."

"I know that. It's just hard to admit how I feel out loud. When I say it out loud, it sounds even more pathetic."

"You could never be pathetic. Not to me. What you have with Edward is complex. It's not an everyday thing to meet two people who have never _not_ known each other. Plus, with all the on-again, off-again stuff over the years…I'm not a bit surprised about your feelings, really." She squeezed my hand tightly, and her earnest eyes met mine. It gave me courage.

"So, as you might have already guessed, my appointment isn't really an appointment at all."

"You're going to see him."

"I guess I am." I chewed on my bottom lip. "It's all I know to do, Al. I can't get married when I feel like this. I think it would kill Mike to know how torn up I am, how uncertain I feel. Something as happy as an engagement should not be literally tearing me apart."

"Does Mike know you're here?"

"Yes. But he doesn't know why. He thinks I'm here to spend time with you actually." The corners of my lips upturned in a hesitant smile, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"So let me guess." Her eyes widened slightly. "I'm your cover. Your alibi?"

"Maybe?" I squeaked out, guiltily.

"Bella Swan. You want me to lie for you?"

"Only if it comes down to it, which I don't think it will."

"My how the tables have turned. _Me_ lying for you. Has hell frozen over and I didn't get the memo?"

"No frozen hell, just a completely screwed up girl asking you to help her out just this once." Shamed, I stared down at my feet, loathing myself for drawing her into my mess. It was unfair of me to put Alice in that position, and I wouldn't have done it if I'd had any better options.

"Of course I'll cover for you." Her voice was quiet. "For the record, I don't like lying. But I'd do just about anything for you, Bells. And it's not just because you endured hurricane Alice for all those years, though that certainly plays a part in it. I love you and I want you to be happy. If this little masquerade gets you closer to that, then so be it."

"Thank you," I whispered, relieved and overcome with emotion.

"Aw, it's nothing."

Then she pursed her lips, looking contemplative. "So tell me this. What exactly are you going to say to Edward? What's the _goal_ of your visit?" Air quotes were employed as she said the word goal.

"You've got me."

"You don't have a plan?" she said incredulously. "Hell really _has_ frozen over!"

"The plan is to get closure," I sniffed. "Exactly how that's going to happen? I'm not sure."

"So you're just going to show up at his place and go where the conversation takes you?"

"Pretty much," I muttered, my stomach churning at the thought of it. "It's absolutely ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Or pretty ballsy," she replied with a sly smile.

"Ridiculously ballsy?" I scoffed. "All I know is that he and I need to talk things out as mature adults and purge the thing from our lives. Otherwise I will keep hanging on to him and I'll end up an old woman who can't die because of unfinished business."

"Huh?"

"Oh, forget I said that last part. Long story."

"So I've just gotta ask you something," Alice hedged. "And I don't want you to get mad. So promise me you won't."

"I won't get mad. You've just agreed to lie for me. I have no room to be mad about anything."

Her dark eyes pierced mine. In them wasn't accusation, just inquisition. "Bella, did you come here because you want Edward back?"

I stared unseeingly at the coffee table below me. Her words landed and added to the unbearable load already weighing me down. I knew my answer, but was unwilling to utter it.

I settled for, "I want it over with."

"You didn't really answer my question, Bells."

Our eyes connected. We looked into one another in a way only soul-deep, life long friends can manage to do.

"I know I didn't. And please don't make me."

The look on her face let me know she had heard what I'd left unspoken. I saw her neck bob as she swallowed concertedly.

"So," she cleared her throat and shifted on the couch, "when do you meet with him?"

"I called the hospital and figured out when his shifts are. Looks like my best bet of getting some face time is mid-morning tomorrow."

"That's quite stalker-ish of you."

"I know, creepy huh? But I'm not even a good stalker because there's still one variable I haven't been able to figure out."

"Which is?"

"The Tanya factor. What if I go to Edward's and she's there?"

"Ooh. Talk about awkward."

"I know. I guess I'll just have to take my chances."

Alice pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed. "I ran into to them several weeks ago, you know."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"No, I didn't tell you. I didn't think you'd care, seeing as though you were head over heels for Mike."

"True enough." I shrugged, inwardly wincing. Then I paused before I ventured into my next question, which I was sure would make me feel decidedly junior high-ish. "So, what's she like? What's Tanya like?" My cheeks flushed as the words left my mouth.

Alice looked at me warily. "Really, Bells, do want to know?"

"She must be adorable," I replied grimly.

"It's not that. I just don't want you torturing yourself."

"I won't torture myself anymore than usual. Just spill it."

Alice glanced sideways. I could see the wheels turning, as she was processing her words. "I won't lie. She's pretty. She's tall, with strawberry blonde hair. Has these very refined, almost aristocratic features."

"So she sounds like a runway model," I added flatly.

"Let me finish. She is very attractive, but personality-wise, I give her a zero. She was reserved and…" Alice paused, searching for her words, "very cool. Ice queen-ish. Yes, I think that describes her quite well."

"Edward with a gorgeous ice queen. Sounds like high school all over again."

"Come to think of it, I guess she _was_ his usual type from back in the day."

I exhaled loudly and sunk back on the couch.

"For what it's worth, Bells, he didn't look that happy. They were like this beautiful living, breathing J. Crew advertisement, but neither smiled. And neither had light in their eyes, if you know what I mean."

That made me sad, because Edward without light in those green eyes was like a day without sunshine. Then I pictured a Barbie-like girl by his side. My stomach knotted up at thoughts of Edward with his ice queen. Picturing Edward with anyone, besides a short brown-haired relatively average Bella, killed me.

A wave of nausea washed over me as I realized I was jealous over his girlfriend, just like always. But this time I was a grown woman and engaged to another man, who I was presently deceiving. It was wrong at so many levels.

"Al, how did my life end up like this? In a million years I never expected things to go this way. I'm sneaking around on my fiancé, pining over the guy that got away. Totally jealous of his current girlfriend, who I have no right to be jealous of. I'm a pathetic Lifetime movie."

"You are not. I think you're kind of brave, actually. Anyone else in your position would marry Mike and hope the uncertainty would just magically go away."

"Which is what you think I should do, don't you?" I eyed her thoughtfully.

"Not necessarily," she replied, twirling a piece of her short black hair between two fingers.

"But admit it, Alice, you're Team Mike. You've never been a fan of Edward and me."

"I think Mike is wonderful and stable. So yes, I really like him. And while Edward and I have had our moments over the years, you know I love him. I will confess though, that I haven't always liked the two of you as a couple. I will say this, even though I don't like admitting it. When you are with Edward, there is something more alive about you. There's a version of Bella that's only there when he's around."

I pondered her assessment, knowing it was true. I'd always felt what she was talking about. I'd always recognized that his presence did something to me that was unseen, but real. I'd just never been able to put it into words.

"Bella," she looked at me somberly, "Edward's your Mr. Big."

"What's that mean?"

"_Sex and the City_?"

"I don't watch it."

"Well, you should."

"I'll start, okay. Just tell me how Edward is my Mr. Big already."

"So Carrie Bradshaw has this guy in her life who she can never quite get over. He comes and goes and even when she's with someone else, she's always got Big on her mind. But the problem is, every time they get together it ends badly. Mostly because Carrie always wants more from Big than he can give. They're sort of toxic for each other really."

"So you're saying Edward and I are toxic together?"

"Toxic is a little harsh. I wouldn't call you that. But, regardless, he's your Big, for sure."

"So do Carrie and Big end up together?" I hedged, feeling slightly foolish to be asking about a fictional couple's relationship.

"It's season 3, and so far they aren't. Who knows how it'll go? The romantic in me wants them together, but they probably shouldn't be."

"Hmm." I processed Alice's opinion. "So, based on how you feel about them, I would say you are definitely Team Mike."

"I wouldn't be so sure," she continued on. "You should know if I'm on any team in this deal, its Team Bella. Print me up a t-shirt and call it good."

My eyes welled with tears, which I quickly blinked away. My Alice had a way of getting to the heart of things.

"So for this t-shirt, can I use those fuzzy iron-on letters?" I asked with a straight face. "The kind we used when we made our _Stay Gold, Pony Boy _t-shirts back in junior high?"

"Absolutely." She smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with moisture too. "I'd expect nothing less."

Feeling overwhelmed by the perfection of her support, I leaned in and embraced her.

Every once in awhile, I found myself astonished at who Alice had become. Against all odds, she had matured into an attentive and loyal-to-the-end friend. It had taken a long while for her to get there, mainly because she had a bad habit of learning most things the hard way. In her adulthood, she'd become someone who could write the book on friendship and how to love someone unconditionally.

She pulled away from me. Her eyes were bright and brimming with a plan. "So as I figure it, we've got three hours before I have to go get the twins. What do you say we go grab some Mexican food for lunch and we'll try to talk through some possible scenarios for tomorrow? Then I'll take you by that cheap jewelry store I told you about. If we have still time, then I want to show you the studio where I take belly dancing."

"Belly Dancing. Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. I signed up for them before I knew I was pregnant. But really, who could be more appropriate for belly dancing than a pregnant woman?"

"Sounds perfect." I giggled, so thankful that she knew exactly what I needed to do, which was to have a little fun. "Have I told you I love you, Alice?"

Standing up, she reached out her hand to me to pull me up from the couch. "Seriously. What's not to love?"

_Nothing. Nothing at all_.

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**I hope you all have a friend like Alice! I know I do, and I couldn't make it without them. **

Next up...Senior Year and a thing called Prom


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.

**Thanks to my beta, klarsen18! I don't deserve you! I am also so thankful to those of you reading this story...it seriously blows my mind, in an awesome way! :)**

**This chapter is another two-parter (says the long winded author). Set in 1992...E and B's Senior Year. **

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**Chapter 14—Part 1: "Didn't We Almost Have it All?" (1992)**

The Harrison High Auditorium was filled with four hundred chatty seventeen and eighteen year olds, all of who had succumbed to a pandemic known as Senior-itits. We had a month and a half left of our high school experience, but it might as well as have been the last week of school. Our attention spans were short, our energy levels high, and our level of disinterest in anything school related, off the charts. Our beloved senior class counselor approached the microphone to speak, and it took every bit of five minutes for her to quiet the raucous crowd. Even after a suitable level of silence had been achieved, hushed whispers and stifled laughter continued to fill the air.

I craned my neck in an attempt to hear her better. It was Senior Information Day, and she was attempting to walk us through a packet of handouts that would guide us through the activities to come in the next six weeks. It wasn't that I was overly interested in the information or anything, but a certain harsh reality remained. I didn't have anyone at home to help me meet deadlines and get necessary paperwork turned in for all the banquets, awards assemblies, parties, and of course, graduation activities, that were ahead of us. I had to listen well and make sure I had my ducks in a row.

I guess the rest of the crowd lost in their idle chatter, simply knew someone else, namely their mothers, would handle what needed to be handled. In that knowledge was glorious freedom. A freedom my own best friend relished.

"Brenda and Dylan did it." Alice whispered in my ear, so close to me I could almost feel her lips. "On prom night."

"What are you talking about?" I muttered quietly.

"_90210_. What else?"

"Oh." With a very pointed frown, I added, "Shhh."

"I'm sure Kelly will be super jealous, and Brandon won't be thrilled about it either."

"Shhh."

"I still say all the West Beverly girls should be crazy over Nat. I mean he owns the Peach Pit for goodness sake!"

"Al, I'm trying to listen," I hiss-whispered a bit too harshly.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes, just as I would've expected. Then she turned her attention to a spiral notebook in her lap, on which she absentmindedly doodled hearts and bubble letters, using a pen with a feather boa-like poof on its end. Freedom, indeed.

As I witnessed her innocent, fanciful doodling, I silently reprimanded myself. Alice was being exactly who she was supposed to be: a chatty and worry-free eighteen year old, who all but believed the characters from her favorite show were real. It wasn't fair of me to begrudge her or anyone else for their ability to live in the moment and to be truly young. After all, it was technically of my choosing to live as the polar opposite of that, though most days it didn't feel like as much of a choice as it did a necessity.

Reaching over and squeezing her hand, the corners of my lips curved into a smile, as I mouthed, "I'm sorry." She playfully stuck her tongue out at me. It was undoubtedly her version of reconciliation.

Twenty excruciating minutes later, Mrs. Farmington was finished with her instructions. My notation-filled, highly underlined packet sat heavily on my lap, as I contemplated everything I needed to get done in the next couple of weeks. While Alice's packet, as well as the girl's next to me, remained untouched in their backpacks.

We were dismissed directly from the assembly, and since it was the end of the day, no one was in a particular hurry to get anywhere. The auditorium was fully alive and abuzz. Groups of kids congregated here and there, as the sounds of laughter and chaotic commotion literally bounced off the walls. I yearned to be a part of the kinetic energy surrounding me, yet I couldn't help but feel near it, but not _in_ it. This came as no surprise to me. I was chronically incapable of fully abandoning my prematurely adult sensibilities, and fooling myself into fitting in.

"I like your romper." Alice interjected, as we packed up our things. "You look sort of dressy for school though."

"I know," I groaned, pulling at my lace dickey collar. "They took pictures today for Harrison High Top Ten."

"Ooh la la. Aren't_ we_ something special?"

"Not so much." A blush warmed my cheeks.

"Only _ten_ seniors get that award," she replied, her brow quirked. "I'd say that's something special. Personally, I'm super proud of you."

"I still think there must have been a miscalculation with the votes or something."

"Whatever, Bells," she said insistently. "You work your ass off, and make awesome grades despite your deadbeat dad. Could you just be proud of yourself for like, I don't know, five seconds even?"

I smiled at her weakly, slightly shocked by her uncharacteristic perceptiveness, and then diverted my attention away from her insistent glare.

"Well, my friend," Alice said, as she swiped on a fresh coat of coral shimmery lipstick. "If you want a ride home today, you will first have to make a necessary pit stop with me. I suddenly have a craving for Dairy Queen french fries. Care to join me?"

"Not today, Al. I'll catch a ride with Edward. Be sure to tell burger boy hi for me."

Alice was neck deep in an obsession with "burger guy," otherwise known as twenty-three year old, unambitious, slightly creepy, guy.

"Will do. He's going to ask me out. I can feel it in my bones." She smiled, with a certain glint in her dark eyes.

"You don't even know his name."

"That's just a detail. Plus, if I knew his name, that would take all the mystique out of it now, wouldn't it?" Grinning, she side-scooted her way out of the row of chairs we'd occupied and headed toward her fast food destiny.

I was tempted to lecture her about the dangers of dating someone that much older than us, not to mention, the proud owner of a Swastika tattoo, but I thought better of it. My concerns would only fall on deaf ears anyway. Nothing bugged Alice more than when I mothered her. Considering who she was, and who I was, that happened all too often.

I narrowed my eyes and scanned the auditorium, hoping to locate my ride before he left without me. Eventually, I zeroed in on my target, finding him only because I recognized the cowlicks on the top of his head.

He was trapped in a headlock by one of his best buddies, Trevor. Edward's face was beet red as he struggled to free himself of Trevor's hold. Then in an instant, Edward shifted and rotated just so, somehow escaping Trevor's grip. In three seconds flat, the tables were turned and Trevor became the victim.

As Edward head locked Trevor in his arm, my eyes met his vivid and playful emerald gaze. He mouthed the words, "You need a ride home?"

I nodded my head.

With that, he released Trevor. The two gave each other playful shoves and then parted ways, only after high-fiving. Edward leaned his tall frame down and snatched his backpack off the ground. Then he sauntered toward me from across the auditorium. His eyes were bright and alive, as he chatted up several kids on his way over.

The way he carried himself, and the easy confidence he wore so well, made me admire him so, and feel decidedly proud to be his closest friend. The guy practically owned the room, but had not the slightest awareness of that fact.

When he reached me, he leaned into me and bumped my shoulder teasingly. "Hey, Little Bit."

"Hey." I smiled goofily, stumbling a bit from his pseudo-shove. "So, I'm pretty sure I saw that exact scene play out between you and Trevor five years ago in junior high, including that special move you did at the end."

"He's just a punk." Edward's voice was nothing short of ghetto.

"So are you," I teased.

"Better be careful who you call a punk. You may have to hoof it home."

"You wouldn't," I dared him.

"Nah. I wouldn't." He grinned. He reached over and grabbed my bulging backpack. Swinging it over his free shoulder, he nodded his head in the direction of the parking lot. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are."

We walked in step toward the El Cam. The afternoon sun washed over us in perfection, thawing out my body, which was frozen from the frigid auditorium. "Thanks for sparing me a trip to Dairy Queen."

"Is Alice still obsessed with that guy?"

"For today anyway."

"She is so incredibly weird."

"She is not. She's just…" I hesitated looking for the right words, "just Alice."

"Like I said, weird," he scoffed.

"You just don't understand her, Edward. You never have."

"I'd say it's mutual."

"Probably so," I agreed, weary from what was essentially same song, second verse, in the epic battle of Edward verses Alice.

"So, I have pretty awesome news." His voice was chipper, even child-like.

"I know. I heard you got nominated for Prom Court, not that I'm really surprised."

"_That's_ not my good news." His nose scrunched up in distaste.

"Well it_ is_ good news."

"I guess," he sniffed, with a disinterested look.

When we reached the El Cam in the senior parking lot, Edward hoisted our backpacks into the bed of the truck, with a metallic thud. As we climbed into the cab and got situated, he started in again with that enthusiastic child-like voice. "What I was going to say was, I finally heard from Grace Trail this morning."

"No!"

"Yep." He grinned. "They hired me for a summer internship, Bells."

Impulsively, I leaned over and hugged his neck tightly. Only realizing after the fact that I hung on a second too long.

"I am so happy for you." I added, as I pulled away from him, praying the blush in my cheeks wasn't as visible as it felt. "So you'll be like what, a junior counselor?"

"It's not Camp Monakiwa, Bella. The official title of the position is assistant trail guide."

"I still can't believe a guy from flat-as-all-get out West Texas, is so hike-y."

"Hike-y, huh?" he teased, with a wink.

"Yep, hike-y."

"I guess I can thank my dad for that. Since he somehow managed to take me on extravagant hiking trips, while refusing to help pay for my braces or car insurance, I am officially hike-y. And who says he never did anything for me?"

A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes. Then he shook his head slightly, as if jarring the unpleasant thought from it. "Anyway, what's so cool about this job is that I get to be on the trail all summer, and I'll get paid to do it. Seriously, who gets paid to do what they love to do?"

"Just you and professional baseball players, right?" I surprised myself with my convincing outer nonchalance, while my gut was twisting within me. "So all summer long, huh?" I added, as is it were an easy after thought.

"Pretty much. I leave right after graduation. I'll come back home at the end of August, just in time to start at Tech with you."

His eyes settled on mine. I recognized the analysis of his gaze, and I couldn't bear the thought of him detecting the apprehension I was feeling.

"It will be the summer of your life. I just know it," I forced out, sounding like a bad actor reading a poorly written script.

"I am excited to get there. But I do worry about," he took a calculated pause, "my mom."

His eyes were wide, intent on mine like laser lights. "We've never been apart that long. I almost didn't take the job because of that, but I decided she would want what's best for me." Then he looked down, and back up at me pointedly, from underneath his lashes. "Besides, it's only three months. I figured she could bear to part with me for ninety days."

"That's right. Three months will fly by. And _she_ will be just fine. She'll miss you, but I'm certain she can make it without you." I agreed, knowing without question, that his words about his mother, had in actuality been meant for my ears.

Edward exhaled as if he'd been holding his breath, and his face visibly relaxed. His lips tugged up at the corners; a smile of gratitude for giving him the official okay to leave me behind. He'd been cryptic. I'd been cryptic in reply, but we both knew exactly and forthrightly so, what the other was really saying.

"Bells, I get to be Emmett's assistant guide. He's like the coolest guy I've ever met."

"Is he the one that was your guide the last time you and your dad were there? The one who is son of bazillionaire retired surgeon who owns all that property around the trail?"

"Make that kajillionaire." He winked at me playfully. "Yeah, that's him. Emmett is Carlisle Cullen's son. They are both so cool, Bella. You'd love them!"

Edward's countenance completely lit up. His bright expectant eyes overcame me. As I took in his unbridled enthusiasm, two parts of me battled internally. I wanted to be thrilled for him and with him, but part of me wanted to hold him hostage and never let him leave the city limits.

Luckily, it was a very brief battle. The better angels of my nature reigned victorious and I understood that I simply had to be happy for him. Grace Trail was his dream, and he of all people, deserved to live his dream. Even if it meant leaving me behind, I had to let him go.

Ignoring my overwhelming sense of dread, I resolved to share in Edward's joy. "He sounds like a great person to spend three months with. I'm so excited for you." This time it came out more convincingly.

"Thanks, Bells." He grinned contentedly. Then he stared ahead of him, with glazed and eager eyes, rhythmically thumping his thumb on the steering wheel. I could almost see his wheels turning as he undoubtedly ruminated the adventure ahead of him.

If I wanted to make it out of that afternoon without waterworks, I needed for us to switch gears immediately. I would process his departure on my own. In the meantime, I didn't trust my emotions, and more importantly, the expression of them just yet.

"So, is there anyway you could run me by Twilight on the way home so I can get my paycheck? I need the money to buy a prom dress?" I asked him lightly.

"Sure. No problem." He reached down and fiddled with his stereo. " So a prom dress, huh?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, it's that time of year again."

His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. A look of thoughtful concentration overtook his features, "In Spanish this morning I was sitting there thinking about something. Do you realize you and I have never been to prom or any kind of dance together?"

"Hmm," I commented quietly, while wondering how he could not know that I'd spent the better part of the last four years obsessing over the very point of fact.

He ran his hand through his hair several times, as he shifted his jaw back and forth. His eyebrows knit together as he faced me in all earnestness. "Bella, I wanna take you. How about it? You and me. Senior Prom?"

My heart doubled its pace in the wake of his words. For so many years I'd waited in agony for the exact invitation I had just received. For so many years, I watched the dances come and go, not once seeing my secret hopes fulfilled. Finally, there was my chance staring me right in the eyes. Yet, in the face of my ultimate dream moment, I was forced to choke out he unthinkable. "I-I can't, Edward. Randall Stabler asked me to go this morning, and I said yes."

"Oh. Yeah. That's cool," he replied very quickly and with a decided amount of indifference. His eyes drifted out the window and he stared off toward the main building of our school as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Then he turned the keys in his ignition and revved the El Cam to life.

He reached his hand to the gearshift to put it in reverse, but stopped himself. He looked my way, wearing disappointment like a cloak. Then with pensive eyes that carried only the slightest glimmer of hope, he asked me, "Any chance you'd tell Randall you forgot you already had a date?"

I shook my head sadly, giving him the answer he already knew was coming.

"It was worth a try anyway." He jerked the truck out of park, into reverse, and roughly backed it out.

"For what it's worth, Edward, I would've loved to have gone with you," I added quietly, meaning it more than he'd ever fathom.

"So Randall Stabler? Valedictorian, Randall Stabler. Didn't know y'all were close?"

"We have a lot of classes together. He's a great guy really."

"Yeah," he added weakly, "a great guy who was smart enough to beat me to the punch."

As I watched Edward gloomily drive us by the coffee shop and then home, I felt like I'd committed high treason against him. I battled the compulsion to apologize to him, though I'd really done nothing wrong.

He was clearly trying to act normal, as if everything was right in his world. Yet, having known him for so long, all the signs were there that told me he was upset. His jaw muscles were tightly clenched, his usually warm green eyes looked distant, and he gnawed relentlessly on his thumbnail with a down-turned mouth.

As Edward so aptly noted, Randall had beaten him to the punch by a measly four hours. Not even four hours really. It was three hours and forty minutes to be precise. Consequently, I was left with a tortuous, twisting stomachache, pondering the sick irony of it all. To be unavailable to Edward the one and only time he'd chosen me as more than an afterthought, was like most aspects of my life, a sick and humorless joke.

If I thought Edward's prom invitation was an unexpected turn of events, his next move, was the topper. Instead of asking his typical blonde, flirty, dense type of girl to be his date in my stead, he ended up asking Charlotte Short. Charlotte was a sweet and beautiful girl, who happened to be the long time girlfriend of Edward's good friend, Peter. Since Peter was unable to come into town from college to take Charlotte to Prom, Edward was stepping in on his behalf. It was such a decent thing to do on Edward's part. Even though he was the most decent person I knew, it wasn't the kind of move I would've expected from him at all.

In fact, when Alice, queen of all scoop, initially shared the news with me, my jaw actually dropped.

When the night of prom arrived, I was very excited to go. I had quasi-mourned what could of have been with Edward, and had resolved to make the most of my night. Randall was no slouch after all. He was my friend, and he was easy to be around. What I liked about him most, was his dry, acerbic wit that kept me in stitches. In a different world and perhaps under different circumstances, I might have actually had a bit of a crush on the guy.

Even so, it was bittersweet in the least. And I'll admit that as I got my hair and nails done, alongside a very chatty Alice, my mind drifted in and out of a dream sequence, in which I pretended it was Edward's arm I would be on that night.

With an hour to go before Randall was due to pick me up, I sat in a button up denim shirt, with my perfectly coiffed do and lovely French manicured nails. I was salivating to put on my dress, just to complete the look. Calculating exactly when to put it on was puzzling to me. When I couldn't stand to wait any longer, I carefully slipped it on, feeling magically transformed as the fabric hugged my body. I glanced bashfully at the girl in the mirror before me, barely recognizing her.

I'd cleaned up quite nicely, and rather shocking to me, I didn't look awkward or foolish, but rather quite the lady. My royal blue dress was very clean and classic; something that wouldn't be dated in ten years. This made me brim with pride, as my mom had always leaned toward classic lines and silhouettes for that very reason. Renee Swan would've approved of me that night, of this I was certain.

The shrill ring of the phone interrupted my self-inspection.

"Heeeelllo," I said, fully expecting to hear Alice's voice on the other end. Knowing she was neck deep in her pre-prom ritual, I somewhat expected her to call me in a tizzy over some kind of dilemma, such as mismatching lipstick or a bad hair moment. Or perhaps she had decided in the final hour, that channeling a look she'd seen on an episode _China Beach_ wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Bella. This is Dr. Stabler, Randall's mother." Her serious tone took me off guard. The sound of it caused me to sit up straighter.

"Oh. Yes ma'am."

"Um, I hate to tell you this so late in the game, but Randall is about to have an emergency appendectomy."

"Oh my gosh!" I said panicked and confused, my mind struggling to wrap itself around what she'd said.

"Oh, he's going to be fine. It'll be a very routine surgery and nothing to get too worried about. A very trusted colleague of mine will be operating. Randall is in very good hands."

"Is there anything I can do?" I foolishly offered, not having one skill to speak of that could help them in their present situation.

"No, our bases our covered," she said kindly. "We realize what an awful position this puts you in though. Richard asked me to tell you how sorry he is. We were hoping he just had a stomach bug, but it became clear in the last few hours exactly what we weren't dealing with. We hope you'll still be able to have a good prom night. We'd be happy to send on the limousine we'd rented to take you the Civic Center."

"Oh, please, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And don't worry about the limo either," I interjected. "Will you just tell Randall I'll be praying for him and I'll come by and see him tomorrow if he's up for visitors?"

"Certainly. I know he'd love to see you. He thinks the world of you, Bella."

"I feel the same about him," I replied, realizing only then how lucky I'd been to almost be Randall Stabler's date.

We exchanged our pleasant good byes and I hung up the phone stunned. I replayed our brief exchange in my head, as the reality of it slowly sunk in.

"Crap," I said out loud to no one in particular.

I was torn between a sincere concern for my friend, and the overwhelming realization that I was yet again dateless and defective one hour prior to one of the most iconic events in a girl's life. To top that off, was the bitter pill that Edward could've been my date, had things played out just the slightest bit differently.

I chewed my lip anxiously, silently reviewing my options. I could call Alice, and she would invariably invite me to tag along with her and Liam Channing. She was worried that because of her "stunning beauty" he would try to get to second base with her. She simply wasn't interested in his "pedestrian" ways, whatever that meant. Third wheel Bella might actually be a welcome diversion for her.

My other option, as I saw it, was to put on my big girl panties and walk into a _Spring Time in Paris_ themed banquet hall all by myself.

It took me all of two minutes to deem both options wholly undesirable. I wouldn't tag along and I wouldn't go alone. Call it pride or call it fear. Either way, I was well aware of my own limits.

A solitary sob escaped my throat, as something akin to grief welled inside me. As I prepared to take off my perfect dress and undo the pins that held my intricate hairstyle in place, I took one last long look at my reflection in the mirror. I wanted to memorize the way I looked, knowing there wouldn't be any pictures of me to tuck away in my keepsake box. There would be no evidence to prove that on one special night I looked more than just ordinary.

As I reached back for my zipper, I could hear my dad shuffling around in the living room nearby. Reminded of his presence, I decided to hold off disrobing until after he left for the evening. If he saw me in my jeans and t-shirt, he'd invariably start asking questions, and I didn't have it in me to answer them. As far as I was concerned, he would never have to know I'd been stood up by my valedictorian appendectomy patient of a date.

To his credit, Dad had been surprisingly supportive of the whole prom thing. When he discovered I'd purchased my own dress, he insisted on reimbursing me, even giving me extra money so I could find a fancy purse and shoes. It was his way of loving me, and it didn't go by unnoticed or unappreciated.

Yet the idea of telling him my heart was broken, and I wanted to cry my eyes out because I wouldn't be going to the biggest event of my Senior year, didn't sit well with me. I couldn't face what I knew would ultimately happen. His heavily lined and weary countenance would've furrowed in the wake of my news. He would've then glazed over in an awkward and vacant stare, patted me on the back, and found an excuse to promptly exit the room. All the while, tightly gripping a glass full of his constant companion. Then I'd be left alone, to clutch my stomach in a vain attempt to stabilize the ever aching mom-sized hole within me.

There'd be no _cry on my shoulder_ moment. There'd be no _just let it all out_ _because I'm here for you_ speech_. _And there would be no _let's sit down and figure out a plan B _pep talk_. _Such things didn't exist in my dad's world, and therefore they didn't exist in mine either.

That inevitability alone kept me from going to him that night, or any night really. Somehow, sparing him those interactions felt like the most merciful thing to do, because at least I wasn't setting him up to fail me. More importantly, I wasn't setting myself up to be failed.

I quietly slid my window open, and maneuvered myself, and my tightly fitted knee length dress, out the window. It was no easy task, but I managed to sort of fall out on the other side and land with a semi-graceful plop to the grass below. I'd grabbed a blanket off my bed on the way out, so I could sit on it and not risk getting grass stains on my pristine blue dress. Granted, no one was going to see it, but this dress, for it's very own sake alone, deserved preservation.

As I leaned back on the tree, I breathed in the wonderfully crisp spring air. The bright green leaves of the Sycamore were motionless and placid above me. The stillness of my beloved shelter calmed me.

Time passed, though I thought little of it. It didn't really matter. All I cared about was listening for the rambling of my dad's car engine. That would be my prompt to go back inside and put reality back on; in the form of a pair of jeans and comb through my thoroughly hair sprayed mane.

"So what gives?" His familiar voice cut into my silent ponderings. I didn't mind it, though. I never minded hearing that voice. "Shouldn't you be in a limo with a guy who will probably be my boss someday, doing math equations in your formal wear?"

I tilted my head up and took him in with my eyes. Long and sinewy, Edward donned tux pants and shirt, with his jacket casually strewn over one shoulder. Perfection.

"I should be. But apparently emergency surgery can really put a kink in things." I found that saying it out loud, made it hurt more.

"No way." Edward kneeled down beside me. His sharp jaw line glistened under a fresh layer of aftershave. "Randall's in surgery?"

"Believe me, I wouldn't joke about something like that."

"Is he okay?"

"He should be. He's having an appendectomy. His mom didn't act like it was too big of a deal."

"Talk about bad timing."

"Tell me about it." I breathed deeply, successfully swallowing down a sob. "And I feel like the biggest jerk ever even worrying about the predicament I'm in. But I can't help it. I found out I'm dateless an hour before prom, and now I'm a cliché."

His eyebrows puckered.

"You know, all dressed up with no place to go."

"But you look nice. And I like that your skin has glitter on it." He eyed my bare shoulders, apparently noticing my shimmer lotion in the streams of sunlight peeking through the leaves above us.

"Thanks." I blushed, unconsciously wrapping my arms tightly around my mid-section.

"And you're sitting out here, why?"

"Because I'm buying time until dad leaves the house. Once he's out of sight, I'm going to go inside and lose myself in a tub of Rocky Road."

"But remember, we ate it last night."

"Gee thanks, Edward. Now I've got nothing to look forward to," I said sarcastically.

Smiling weakly, he shot an apologetic look my way. "So why are you hiding from your dad anyway?"

"I don't want him to know what's happened. I just can't deal right now."

He eased down next to me, so close that his shoulder grazed mine. "So you honestly believe he's going to leave for the night without seeing you in your dress? He's probably waiting in the living room as we speak with his old Polaroid, just to get a peek at you. I know we're talking about your dad, but seriously, even he wouldn't blow off a night like this."

Something about Edward's words triggered the tears. Much to my surprise, they were the first real ones shed that evening. I quickly brushed them away with the back of my hands, being careful not to smudge my professionally done makeup.

"You're probably right," I sniffed. "I just didn't feel like facing him and all that goes with that." Knowing Edward would understand exactly what that meant, I didn't feel the urge to expound.

In a simple gesture that meant way more than any platitudes could, he placed his arm protectively over my shoulder, and pulled me toward him. I leaned in and rested my head on him, shakily exhaling. "I don't know why I'm so upset, Edward. I know it's just a dance that never lives up to expectations. It's just that for the first time ever, I don't feel silly dressed up like this. I actually feel good about myself. I know it sounds so after school special of me, but it's true."

"It doesn't sound after school special, Bells," he scoffed.

"Something felt different and right tonight. I was actually ready to go, and not completely dreading being around all the Lauren Mallorys of Harrison High."

He opened his mouth and then hesitated for several beats, "First of all, _t_he Lauren Mallorys have nothing on you. Second, I may have a theory as to why it's different for you tonight."

I lifted my head and looked at him inquisitively, only then noticing an intensity in his gaze I wasn't acquainted with. There was something decidedly different in those familiar green eyes, though I couldn't exactly name it. All I knew, was that it raised goose bumps up and down my arms, and made my stomach flip.

"You feel the way you feel because you look like_ her_ tonight. Your mom, I mean. Remember that time your folks got all dressed up to go to your dad's work party? We were like ten or something and we spied on them as they left the house. We were sort of amazed, because we'd never seen them so fixed up. You even told me you thought your mom was prettier than any movie star you'd ever seen, even Krystal from _Dynasty."_

I couldn't help but let a giggle slip out.

"Seriously. The way you look right now reminds me of her that night." He licked his lips nervously and his eyes seared unwaveringly into me. His voice was soft and sincere. "Bella, you're beautiful."

My breath hitched in my throat, as his words took hold of me. Knowing of nothing else I could do, I buried my head into his shoulder again, as a solitary tear trailed down my cheek. "Thank you," I whispered.

He had given me the highest of praise, likening me to my beloved mother. It was a compliment only he could offer, because he was my Edward, and he's always been there.

He nudged himself a bit closer to my side, tightening his hold and melding me to him. His very nearness made nothing else matter, aside from the stillness of Our Tree, the solace of his arm around me, and the echo of his words in my mind. _You're beautiful._

I sat with my head burrowed into his fold, relishing the steady rise and fall of his chest. I could've stayed like that forever, because I felt safe, whole and beautiful.

Several minutes later, as the sun began it's descent into the horizon, his soft voice filled the otherwise soundless evening air. "I think I know better than to ask this, but you wanna come with me and Charlotte tonight? You know she and I are not going on a real date. It would be like three friends going together."

"Or a couple and their pathetic third wheel."

"Whatever, Bella. Come with us. You have to admit that this," he ran his eyes up and down me, "was made to be shown off."

His eyes twinkled with hope, and just a touch of mischief. They were nothing short of hypnotic, and almost mesmerizing enough to bring me into submission.

"Thanks Edward, but no thanks."

"I figured," he smiled knowingly. "What do you say we go inside and get it over with? We'll show you off to Charlie and tell him about Randall together. I'm always a good buffer when it comes to your dad, right?"

"But don't you need to go get Charlotte?"

"She can wait. She's probably crying on the phone with Peter anyway. He's totally in the dog house for not flying in tonight to be with her."

I bit my lip, quickly warming up to his offer. "If you're sure?"

"I'm sure." He jumped up nimbly from the ground, brushing off the back of his tux pants.

Straining and fidgeting, I attempted to stand up with him, to no avail. Because my dress was rather form fitting, it afforded me little, if any wiggle room. My cheeks flushed crimson in the realization that I was stuck on the ground where I was. "I think I could use some help getting up. This dress is a bit..."

"Perfect," Edward cut me off in a velvety voice, staring at me wide eyed. The same intense quality was there, giving me goose bumps and a hearty stomach flip all over again.

Grabbing my hand, he capably hoisted me up. Once I was standing before him, he scanned the length of my body. If he was trying to be nonchalant about it, he failed miserably. His lips twitched into a slow smile underneath his steadfast eyes. He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Wow. I've never seen you look quite like this." His words came out almost breathlessly.

All I could do was gape back at him, amazed by his reaction and delighted by how it made me feel. I would have imagined myself shrinking under such scrutiny as that, especially from the boy I'd loved since I could remember. Yet, I almost gloried in it, finding that to receive it from him was as natural as breathing. To have his gaze start and stop on me, was unnerving, but in the best possible way. I craved more.

"Wait here?" I could see in his eyes, as clear as day, an idea taking shape.

"Okay?" I managed, somewhat mystified.

He turned on his heels, running toward his truck parked in his drive way. He got inside and rolled down his driver's side window. The full volume swell of "To Be With You" by Mr. Big, reached my ears. Seconds later, I found Edward with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, standing in front of me with both of his arms extended. "May I have this dance, Bella Swan?"

"Wh--What are you doing?"

"I am asking you to dance to one of your favorite songs." He eyes twinkled. "Here and now." He looked up at Our Tree above us and the lush green grass below. A bashful grin adorned his handsome face. "If you won't go to Prom tonight, then I'll have to steal my dance now. That is, if it's okay with you?"

Without stopping to think, I took a step in his direction. I offered him both my hands, knowing full well I would've offered him my heart too, had he not already possessed it. He tenderly, yet with certainty, pulled me toward him. So tense were my arms and torso at first, we likely looked like two seventh graders robotically holding each other at their first Cotillion dance.

With definite hesitation, and a certain amount of resolution, his chest rose as he took in a deep concerted breath. Then, with trembling hands, he drew me in closer, such that barely any space existed between his body and mine. The strength of his arms encircled me. I found myself quietly sighing as I rested my cheek on his chest. There I could hear the rapid patter of his heart. I melted all of me into all of him, and we swayed to the music in absolute contentment.

I'd received Edward's hugs over the years in times of excitement, and in moments of sorrow, but this embrace was its own thing. Strangely, though altogether new and foreign to me, it was as if it was the most intuitive thing I'd ever done. It made me keenly aware that I had finally found where I belonged. With absolute surety, I believed the plane on his chest right above where his heart kept its solid rhythm, had been made for me and me alone. I fit there with precision like a puzzle piece, not requiring manipulation or force, as if I was made to dwell there.

I hadn't worn my heels outside, and in my bare feet, Edward could easily rest his chin on the top of my head. When he buried his nose in my hair and left it there, my heartbeat accelerated. Then he lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, "Thank you."

I thought my heart might burst right out of me, as his warm breath ghosted my skin. I wasn't sure exactly what I was being thanked for, but I feared asking him. Not because I was afraid of his answer, but because I didn't think I could coherently form a sentence. I merely nodded my head and buried it deeper into him.

We moved in time to the melody, oblivious to anything or anyone around us. Those three flawless minutes provided for me, for the first time in a very long time, a sense of utter completeness. Gone was the nagging sense that I didn't really fit in anywhere. The pitiless void in my heart wasn't swallowing me whole. Every burden that sat so heavily on my shoulders was lifted during that lovely dance. It was him and me, me and him, and anything outside of that was of no consequence.

When the music ended and our swaying inevitably followed suit, Edward unhurriedly pulled away. We searched one another's face nervously; unsure of what would be found. It only took moments for the wide grin on his, and the blush framed smile on mine, to settle us into a calm, yet curious nonverbal exchange. The warmth of his eyes held mine captive for several lingering moments. Then his gaze moved from my eyes, to my lips where it rested for several seconds, and back to my eyes. I felt my breathing become ragged, and my cheeks fill with warmth. He finally broke the trance when he looked down at his feet.

"Guess it's time?" He sounded as sad as I felt.

"Yeah. I guess so." I nodded.

"Be right back." He gave my hand a quick squeeze, then he ran to his truck to shut it off and lock it up.

As we walked side by side toward my house, his fingers grazed mine with each step. I relished every touch, not once becoming immune to it's power over me.

He sat with me on my couch--his knee and shoulder pressed to mine-- and visited with my dad. Just as predicted, Edward ended up being the perfect buffer between us, making something I'd dreaded, not quite so dread worthy. Sitting so close to him as we presented a united front, was just an added bonus.

Minutes later, when I walked him to his truck, our pace was slothful. Neither of us were in a hurry to end whatever it was that had just transpired. I wanted him to stay, and I was pretty darn sure he didn't want to go.

He overtook me with his gaze again, and with shining eyes made a promise. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll go to prom, take Charlotte home and then I'll come to your window. Leave it open, okay?"

"Absolutely," I whispered, lost in beautiful pools of green.

He turned on his heels to get into the El Cam, but not before taking one last lingering look at me. With a crooked grin, he playfully waggled his eyebrows, then lowered himself into his truck.

In those hours I waited for him to return to me, my stomach quaked in excitement, but also with apprehension. What if what I felt between us was only my imagination, fueled by years of hoping? What if what I'd interpreted as something more, was just an expression of his pity for his dateless friend, who was once again in crisis mode?

The only thing I could do was wait and see…

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**So this is a lttle bit of a cliffy, but I didn't contrive it to be...was just a natural place to break it up. :) Part 2 will up in the next 3 days! **

**Check out my profile page to hear the song our sweet couple danced to under their Tree. I still love that song, dated or not!**

**I am just wondering here, how was your senior prom??? The stuff of dreams? Didn't live up to the hype? Or somewhere in between? If I'm honest, mine was just alright****.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.**

**I love my beta, klarsen18!**

**Check out my profile page to hear a song from 1992 that isn't featured in the chapter but totally goes!!! Also new to my profile page...a link to a basic blog I set up that contains pictures and banners for my story.**

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**As promised...here is Part 2-- a continuation of prom night 1992...**

_He overtook me with his gaze again, and with shining eyes made a promise. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll go to prom, take Charlotte home and then I'll come to your window. Leave it open, okay?"_

_"Absolutely," I whispered, lost in beautiful pools of green._

_He turned on his heels to get into the El Cam, but not before taking one last lingering look at me. With a crooked grin, he playfully waggled his eyebrows, then lowered himself into his truck._

_In those hours I waited for him to return to me, my stomach quaked in excitement, but also with apprehension. What if what I felt between us was only my imagination, fueled by years of hoping? What if what I'd interpreted as something more, was just an expression of his pity for his dateless friend, who was once again in crisis mode?_

_The only thing I could do was wait and see…_

Climbing through my window five hours later, Edward grinned from ear to ear when our eyes met. As I took in the breadth of his shoulders underneath a fitted tux shirt, and the ideal taper of his waist, my breath hitched in my throat. It was as if I was seeing him, and becoming aware of his staggering good looks, for the very first time.

Suddenly I wished I hadn't taken off my dress and replaced it with boxer shorts and a tank top. Even in my comfy clothes, he looked at me as if I was donning my full prom regalia, and he said it again with his eyes, without actually uttering the words. _You're beautiful_.

Any anxiety I'd harbored while waiting for his return, melted away instantly. His look of adoration told me everything I needed to know.

Our evening fast became an all-nighter, in which Edward willingly watched my staples, _Breakfast Club_ and _Sixteen Candles_, with me. This was a big deal when it came to him. He didn't hate my favorite movies, but considered it absurd to watch the same movie more than once, and typically refused to do so, standing on principle alone.

He leaned back on the headboard of my bed, right next to me, rather than in his customary position on my beanbag. I adored the bouncing of his shoulders and the vibration from his chest when he laughed. I relished his signature scent, so close and easily detected, it required no effort to breathe it in. I loved those moments when he'd bump my arm with his elbow, to make sure I knew he liked that particular part of the movie. It was hands-down my single best movie watching experience of my life, and it had nothing to do the quality of what we were viewing.

Then came the point in the evening where Edward showed off his physical prowess by catching Reese's pieces in mouth, that he had me throw to him, from everywhere in my room. This was a skill he'd mastered when we were but ten years old, and he still had the touch. Later, in the wee hours of the morning, when the simples hit and our minds were mush, we made shadow puppets with our hands and a flashlight. Laughing like we'd never seen anything funnier in our lives, our stomach muscles ached as we tried to hold in the full volume of our chuckles.

It wasn't until the crack of dawn that our sleepless exhaustion fully revealed itself. I reclined on my crying pillow, realizing with glee, I hadn't had to use it for it's express purpose that night. He rested his head on a pillow at the opposite end of my bed, a position that afforded me a full, glorious view of him.

"Can't believe I leave in three weeks." His tired voice was somber. Such a far cry from the lighthearted boy I'd just wasted the night away with.

"I don't want to think about that right now, Edward," I quietly scolded him.

"I don't either really, but it keeps coming to mind. I can't help it," he slurred ever so slightly, drunk from sleeplessness.

"You get to go away on this great adventure, while I'm stuck here with him," I yawned, as I nodded in the direction of my dad's bedroom. "I'll be counting the days until my… What did you call yourself earlier tonight?"

"Your buffer. I'm your buffer."

"Right." I nodded, realizing how slow my sleepy brain was firing. "I'll be counting the days until my _buffer _comes home."

"I'm gonna miss you, ya know?" His voice carried an edge of seriousness I didn't welcome right then.

"Yeah," I sniffed, "whose messes will you clean up when crisis girl isn't looming near by?"

Then he leveled me with his eyes--his beautiful, intense green eyes. "Nah, I'm serious, Bells. I'm going to miss you a lot."

His gaze was strangely deliberate and severe, considering the hour. He was being all too real, and I couldn't handle it. As my heart crept up into my throat, I whispered, "I'll miss you too."

"And for the record. You're always saying crap about me coming to your rescue and helping you out of messes. You couldn't be more off base. You're the one always saving me, Bella. You just don't know it. You never have."

His words left me literally speechless. I was relieved when he didn't seem to require a response on my part, and shocked by what he did in its stead. Placing his hand beside mine, he linked his pinkie with my pinkie. We laid in companionable silence. That, coupled with the perfect touch of his warm skin soon made my eyes grow heavy. As I felt myself slip into that amazingly calm state that precedes sleep, I forced out one more thing that seemed quite urgent to me at the time, "Edward?"

"Uh huh?"

"This night was the best prom I never went to."

Under his eyes that had become slits, he lazily grinned. "That's such a Bella thing to say."

And before I could offer a reply, we both drifted into a sound sleep, with our little fingers still looped together.

When we woke several hours later, his hand was wrapped around tightly around mine.

Prom night marked a shift in my relationship with the boy next door. What made that night any different from the thousands before it, I'll never know. I guess the dress might have had something to do with it. Or maybe it was Edward's impending summer departure that forced our hands. Whatever the case, from that little dance under the Sycamore forward, things were never the same between us.

Some days, it was more obvious than others. There was the purposeful touching, that showed itself as accidental: A brush of the arm, a flitter of the hand, or a bump of the shoulder. Each tiny contact caused a pleasing jolt of energy inside me, making me hunger to feel him again. Then there was the starry eyed staring, and the holding of a gaze a beat or three too long. His beautiful eyes possessed a power he had no idea he wielded, strengthening me and disarming me all at once. Above all, there was the ever-present palpable buzz between his body and mine.

When we occupied the same space, breathed the same air even, the tension all around us was consuming. I think I had always sensed some kind of force between us. In my unrequited love, it had mostly been one-way--an outward show of my intense devotion and longing for a boy who saw me as something like a sister. Not anymore. We had become magnets of opposite polarity, pulled together by something bigger then both of us.

Though we never spoke of the seismic shift that had taken place in our relationship, we were both fully aware of it. He needn't affirm it to me with spoken words, and I didn't require a label of some kind to know it was real. I saw it written all over his beautiful face, in the way his body was constantly oriented to mine, and in the mere look of adoration that occupied his angel eyes.

We were inseparable those final weeks of our Senior Year, joined at the hip like never before. Gone were the days of Edward's casual and flippant dating-around of every girl with a pulse. He only had eyes and time for me.

I worked my four shifts a week at the coffee house and I still saw Alice quite a bit, but for the most part, any spare moment I had was reserved for Edward. It was as if there existed an unspoken agreement that any and all free time would be devoted to each other.

Most Friday nights, especially toward the end of school, we'd go to one of many graduation parties and after the festivities died down, we'd come home and make a pallet under Our Tree. We'd talk until the words became garbled, and then fall asleep head to head, until we woke to the sunlight and a soft cover of dew.

The truck bed of the El Cam also became a preferred spot. Just outside of town, you could gaze at a million stars, feeling awed at the bigness of God. We talked a lot about our futures there, under a blanket of endless night sky. More often than not, I'd lay my head on his outstretched arm, with my hair splayed around me. He'd mindlessly twirl a lock of it around his finger, over and over. The low murmur of his voice would lull me into a relaxed state, where candid conversation freely flowed.

Those were my favorite occasions because time stood still. What was ahead of me--a summer without my beloved Edward--was but a vague, far away notion.

The moments were fleeting, though. In a blink, I was grabbing a diploma and shaking my principal's hand, then moving my graduation tassel from the right side of my mortarboard to the left. These symbolic rites of passage that meant sweet freedom to most, only filled me with heavy dread.

Before I knew it, I found myself sitting in Edward's bedroom watching him cram his duffel bag with t-shirts, fleece jackets, hiking boots, and ball caps. It was a seemingly haphazard packing job, yet he carried an edge of intention in his movements. Every article placed in that bag had been calculated and thought through, because he knew what he'd need on the trail. Likely, in his excitement, he'd been planning in his head for weeks, exactly what to pack.

With just one day to go until his dream would officially take shape, Edward had an undeniable bounce in his step. I should have been happy for him because he was so happy. The childlike way in which he scurried from his closet to his chest of drawers, to his bag and then back to his closet, unsettled me to my core. As my gut wrenched within me, excited anticipation pulsed off of him.

Several minutes later, he zipped the bulging bag, patted it heartily, and smugly grinned. "I did it. A summer's worth of stuff in one bag."

My lips curved up into a smile that didn't reach my eyes._ Wonder if there's room for me in there?_

He crossed the room in two strides and plopped down beside me on his bed. Patting my knee two times, and leaving his hand there, he cocked his head. "So what are we going to do on my last night here?"

I shrugged my shoulders, paralyzed by the words _my last night here_.

"We could grab some food and just hang? Or we could go to a movie? You know you're dying to see _White Men Can't Jump_." He elbowed my ribs teasingly. "Or maybe we could play Trivial Pursuit? You beat me last time, and I can't leave here a loser." Playfully, he squeezed the sides of my knees, precisely where he knew I was most ticklish.

Despite myself, I squealed in the pleasure-pain that is all tickles. My response only prompted him to squeeze again. I grabbed his hand, attempting to pull it away, but he persisted in squeezing my knee continuously with a vengeance. Tears pricked my eyes ands rolled down my face as I laughed and cried simultaneously.

"Please, please, _please_ stop!" I begged through an angry gut-laugh. Ignoring my pleas, he kept it up, digging in with his thumb and index finger even more deeply.

With force, I laid back on the bed, about to come out of my skin, when he finally ceased his infliction of torture. Relieved, I wiped the teary moisture off my cheeks, as he laid down beside me.

"Sorry." One side of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"No you're not." I reached over and hit him square in the chest. "You know I hate that. I hate it every stinking time you do it!"

Grabbing my hand before I could pull it away, he took it and placed it on his chest. "Come on, Bells. I'm sort of sorry, but I can't be totally sorry for doing something that makes you laugh like that. Your laugh--the kind that involves every part of your body--is like my favorite thing ever."

"Don't forget the crying part, Edward. I was crying too, if you didn't notice."

When he turned my hand over and began tracing invisible circles on my palm, I found it difficult to stay miffed.

"I think you'll live," he murmured, as his feather light touch sent chills up the length of my arm. "Your skin is soft, Bella. I never knew it was so soft."

"That's because you never touched me much before now," I answered him, instantly blushing as the words left my mouth.

"Well that was my first mistake, wasn't it?" Letting my hand go, he rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow. His eyes bore into mine, and his brows quirked as he studied my face. "Whatcha thinking?"

"Truth?"

"Of course."

I looked up at the ceiling above me, focusing in on a water stain that had been there since we were thirteen. "I'm thinking I'm sad you're leaving. But I'm mad at myself, because I'm supposed to be happy for you."

"Just because you're sad doesn't mean you're not happy for me."

"I guess so."

"I know so. You're always happy for me. My whole life, you've always been the one I can count on to be there for me and to have my back."

I bit down on my lip again, finding a divot there where I had gnawed so many times before. Pressure built up behind my eyes, and within seconds, tears swam in them. I blinked frantically and swallowed hard, fixing my gaze above me.

"Look at me, Bells." His voice was soothing and low.

With my lips in a thin, tight line, I simply shook my head no.

"_Please_ look at me. I'm sad to leave too. Things have been really, really great lately, and honestly, as ready as I am to get to Colorado, at the same time I don't want to leave."

Slowly I faced him, rolling over on my side and mirroring the way he was laying.

"Edward, I'm scared," I choked out. "I haven't been on my own, I mean without you, since she died. I feel alone. I know I can make it by myself, but I'm not sure I want to. Having you around helps me face things…and _him_. You make me strong."

He reached over and wiped away a tear that had traitorously escaped from my eye. "I get that. I really do. And leaving you alone to handle all that is really killing me. I need you to know that I thought about it long and hard, and deciding to go wasn't an easy decision. But don't, even for a second, think I have anything to do with your strength. You are the strongest person I know, and it has nothing to do with me. Do you honestly think I'd leave you if I didn't really believe it?"

"I guess not."

"We're definitely better together. We have always been. But I believe in you, Bells, and can only hope you understand why I'm going to Grace. It's hard for me to explain, but taking this chance…it's something I have to do. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"I think so?"

"It's kind of like that time you were determined to join the academic decathlon team. Your mom had just died and it didn't make any sense for you put so much pressure on yourself so soon. But every time I tried to convince you to let it go and try out the next year, you know what you'd always say?"

I smiled at the sweet yet sorrowful memory. "That it might not make sense to anyone else, but it was just something I had to do."

"Exactly. That's what this job is to me. Maybe it's God? Maybe it's me needing to prove I'm a man? I don't know really. I just know I need to see it through. I think if I didn't do it, I'd always live with regrets. I'd always wonder if I had what it takes to cut it."

I nodded my head in understanding, or in as much understanding as I was capable of having. As I considered his words, his reasons, I was struck with the idea that at least part of Edward's motivation had to have had at least something to do with his dad. Most significant choices he made did.

"Just so you know, Edward, you don't have to go off and be a trail guide to prove you are a man. You've been a man since the day your dad walked out. And I'd know, because I had a front row seat for it all."

I could almost see my sentiment hit the surface of him and slowly sink in. A watery sheen covered his eyes and his expression softened. He reached over and grabbed my hand again and pulled it up to his lips. He placed the softest, most chivalrous of kisses on the back of it. "Thank you."

"Don't forget about me?" I requested shakily, only finishing the most important part of my sentence silently in my head. _And don't forget about us. _

"Are you kidding? Bella, you're my family."

"Still, just promise me you won't forget about me," I demanded, feeling a strange urgency in the request. "Promise me now."

"Fine," he conceded, "I promise."

To seal the deal, he moved his hand, which was still clutching mine, to rest on his heart. Beneath my fingers, I could feel the constant thump of it. Its cadence was even and steady, just like the boy in whom it beat.

How strange it was to find an overwhelming calm in something as simple as a heart beat. A heart, that I was beginning to hope, might beat just for me.

We ordered Chinese food later that evening and talked well into the night, falling asleep on top of his bed when our eyes could no longer stay open. Neither of us stirred until the incessant buzzing of Edward's alarm clock forced us to, four hours later. Curled up on my side with my head nestled into his shoulder, I craned my neck to look at the clock radio. The glowing green numbers that read six o'clock were knives in my heart. One hour until I would have to watch him leave me, entirely powerless to make him stay.

The rest of that morning is but a blur, and my memories of it are like snapshots, or videoclips. I remember Edward happily gorging two helpings of a full hot breakfast, and then sharing a very tearful goodbye with his mother. I recall me standing at his truck with hunched shoulders, where he held me snugly and kissed the top of my head a dozen times.

The only part of that goodbye my mind grabbed onto with complete clarity and intention, were the minutes right before Edward hopped into the El Cam and drove off toward what he believed was his destiny.

As our embrace lingered on, he finally pulled away, just enough to look into my eyes. With the shakiest, but sincerest of voices, he whispered, "You are the most important person in my life, Bella. And the fact that I'm leaving for a while doesn't change that. I need for you to know that."

I simply nodded my head, certain that words would fail me.

Then he traced my cheekbone with his fingertip, burning a trail where his skin met mine. Slowly, he leaned in toward me. I shivered as his breath reached my skin. Then, in what was the very sweetest sensation I'd ever felt, he pressed his lips to mine. It was tender and warm, and it would have been perfect, had it not left me dying for more.

As he pulled away, he murmured, "No goodbyes, sweet Bella, okay?"

I glanced up at him questioningly.

"_Soon_. I'll see you soon," he whispered.

"Soon," I murmured in return.

Then he leaned in once more and brushed his lips across my forehead. Stepping away, he let go of me and quickly got into his truck, refusing to meet my eyes with his.

I heard the rev of the engine and the muffled sound of the radio within the cab. As he pulled away, he simply nodded his head and winked. A terrible void crawled and grew inside me, even before the El Cam was out of my view. When his truck became but a speck in the distance, I crumbled to the curb below me and sobbed.

The only comfort I was able to find that day Edward left, came in the knowledge that summers always flew by in a blink. Finding just enough hope in that prospect, I pulled myself up by my proverbial bootstraps, and pressed on with my days the best way I knew how.

I faced what was ahead of me with a sense of guarded optimism, daring to hope it might not be as bad as I'd imagined. Grasping the precious memories we'd made in the weeks before he left, I'd managed to convince myself that the summer would only make he and I stronger. That we could easily pick up right where we'd left off, once he came home to me.

Consequently, as I began to romanticize what our time apart would look like—short but meaningful phone calls, and classic heart-felt love letters--I could have never predicted the actual course we took.

The devastating fact remained, that I only heard from Edward exactly four times that summer.

The first time was by phone, upon his arrival to the trail. With excitement in his voice, he told me he made it there safely, and that he already missed me.

He called a couple more times his first two weeks away. He'd been distant and brief during those calls, but I attributed it to all the adjustments his new life was requiring.

The fourth and last time he made contact was when I got a letter from him late in the summer. I'll never forget the day it came in the mail. I desperately gripped the unopened envelope, with mixed emotions. I was so glad to finally hear from him, but equally distraught that I hadn't sooner.

I carefully tore it open and allowed my eyes to process the scribbled words on the page. I ended up re-reading those words dozens of times, believing their content might somehow magically change the fifth or sixth time through. Its final four lines are forever etched into my memory, the proverbial nails in the coffin. Each word a confirmation of my deepest fear, and what I already knew to be true, whether I could admit it to myself or not.

_Don't really know what to say, but someday soon I promise to explain this. I won't be coming home in August as planned. I'm staying at Grace, and I only pray you will be able to understand. Not sure if and when I'll be back. _

_--Edward_

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_**I am guessing some of you are mad at the way this chapter ends. I am wondering if anyone is NOT surprised by Edward's latest move? Either way, please know this is going somewhere. You will soon get to know what's going through Edward's head...what happened with him at Grace...and how our sweet Bella handled it.**

**_A little background info. for those who are interested_: **

**As for the trail, Grace is completely fictional. In this story, Carlisle Cullen is a widowed orthopedic surgeon who invented a special ball joint for knee replacements...made millions and semi-retired from surgery. He took his son Emmett to their fav place near the Rocky mountains and bought some land (near Fort Colllins). They built a ranch home with several bunk houses and together started a company that offers guided trail hikes/camping expeditions. It started out a very small operation, but grew into a staff of 12. Carlisle's eventual plan is to build a family camp on his land.**

**Edward's dad took him to Grace for long weekends several times throughout highschool and junior high. In fact, Grace may be one of the only positive memories he has of his dad post-divorce. Edward fell in love with the place and with hiking, and shared an instant connection with Emmett. Under Emmett and Carlisle's strong persuasion, Edward applied for a paid internship as Assistant Trail Guide...which brings us up to speed with the story.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.**

**Thanks to my beta, klarsen18! Thanks to LJ Summers and ManiacMotherland for pimping me on A Different Forest. And thanks to everyone who reads this!!!! I am still amazed. And a special thx to jimemon, who helped me with a few important details!**

**New to my profile page...a link to a basic blog I set up that contains pictures and banners for my story...just a little fun element I added so you can see what I see in my head when I write this stuff. **

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_**Chapt. 16 finds E and B in 1992, freshman year in college. You already know Edward went to Colorado and didn't come back. Now you get to find out why...**_

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**Chapter 16 – The Irony of a Rainbow Bright Room (1992)**

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and I had the dorm room to myself. Because Alice was obsessed with a senior majoring in botany, she was spending all her free time with him in some greenhouse on campus. She considered the humidity in the hothouse just a bonus to dating Craig, because it "totally worked" with her current permed hairstyle.

I missed her, just as I did every time she turned her attention to a boy she was convinced was _the one_. Vanishing from life for weeks at a time for the sake of a boy was nothing unusual for my Alice. I'd become accustomed to it over the years, and now that we shared a tiny 20 by 20 cubicle, her vanishings weren't always a bad thing. A little breathing room was always nice.

Our room was decorated in crimson red, hot pink, and taxicab yellow. It was a bright, cheery space that I'd learned to call home my freshman year of college. A bright, cheery space that would lead any bystander to believe the girls who inhabited it were bright and cheery too. At least one of us fit the façade, and it certainly wasn't me.

For so many reasons, the first couple of months of college had been some of the darkest times of my young life. Every time I stepped foot in our merry little room, I wanted to sometimes laugh, but mostly cry at the irony of it.

That particular afternoon I was sprawled out on my daybed with the blinds closed and lights off. Our room was so much more palatable to me in the dark, when the Rainbow Brightness of it all wasn't staring me in the face.

I was stuffing my face with Teddy Grahams, while watching taped episodes of _Northern Exposure_. I didn't have a shift at Twilight, and I found homework to be highly overrated. My dad had called and said I had some mail at the house, but I wouldn't be caught dead there. Thus, sitting on my bum and wasting the afternoon away was my only agenda. It was exactly the kind of low-key afternoon I needed, especially considering the mild hangover I was nursing from one too many drinks the night before. The numerous shots I'd downed were courtesy of my new boyfriend, nonetheless.

My night with Riley had played out like so many before it. It began with he and I, and two of his frat brothers creating a drinking game out of the show we were watching on TV. That night it had been _Seinfeld_. Every time Jerry was sarcastic, or George was flustered, or Kramer opened Jerry's apartment door, we took a shot or a swig of our drink. The four of us were thoroughly toasted in the span of the thirty-minute sitcom.

After the show was over, Riley and I stumbled back to his bedroom, and got up close and personal on top of his bed to the sound of Hootie and the Blowfish. By the end of the CD, we were under the covers, and by the second repetition of it, my clothes were in a pile on the floor. Things progressed from there, and by the end of the night, Riley was passed out cold in the bed. As for me, though I was fuzzy minded, all I could do was cringe, and feel abruptly sobered by self-hatred.

With Riley's musty sheets all around me, and posters of bikini-clad girls staring down at me, every fiber of my being knew I didn't belong there. When even the sound of his breathing made me want to recoil, I was unable to stay there one millisecond longer.

I stumbled out of his bed and hastily dressed myself in the moonlight from the window. Then I left his dark and dingy house, being sure above all else, to avoid my reflection in the mirror in the hallway on the way out.

With tears burning my eyes, I took the walk of shame to my dorm room in the middle of the night across a desolate, empty campus. Upon my arrival to the tiny box-like abode I called home, I fell to my daybed and literally buried myself in my covers. I breathed the requisite sigh of relief that Alice wasn't home, while wishing in the same breath, that she had been.

I felt utterly and completely alone.

I reviled myself in that moment, just like I did every night that played out that way. I hated myself because I'd ended up in bed with Riley, when I promised myself it would never happen again. I hated myself because I was pretty sure I'd be right back in that compromising position again quite soon. I hated myself because all I could think about was how different my life might be if Edward hadn't left me and never looked back.

The fact that I let his absence have that much power over me was nothing short of mortifying. It made me feel weak and tiny, spineless and needy. I'd always known how dependant I was on Edward in theory, but seeing what I'd become when he wasn't a constant in my life shamed me, and showed me the humiliating depth of that reliance.

The thoughts that came suffocated me, and it made nights like that intolerable. The life I was living and the girl I had become, was completely surreal. The majority of the time, I simply hoped I might wake up and figure out it had all been a nightmare--an awful and absolutely realistic nightmare.

It was almost like my very DNA had been mutated. One day I was reliable, sensible, and moral Bella, and the next day I found my self making decisions I would have never made. One bad decision led to another, and before I knew it I was partying hard, and letting a boy I barely knew round the bases toward home plate.

All of this was done because it simply felt good not to hurt. It felt good not to be one hundred percent aware of the gaping hole in my chest that Edward had left. It was nice to think about someone other than the green-eyed boy who had somehow forgotten me. Once I got even a single taste of the distraction and escape Riley Jones provided, I was game for whatever he offered--no matter how bad a boy he was.

In those moments of fleeting diversion that I shared with Riley, I actually felt okay, and my heartache was dulled. Even though the respite never lasted long, I chased after it anyway, reasoning that some relief was better than none. Every time, though, the morning-after inevitably rolled around, and I'd eventually have to look at myself in the mirror. That's when, in the light of day, the self-loathing was at its height.

On that particular Saturday afternoon, re-runs of my favorite show and handfuls of my favorite snack, weren't distracting enough. I even turned up the volume on the television hoping it could drown out my own thoughts.

It didn't. Words and phrases like w_eak_, _slut_, _disappointmen_t,_ your father's daughter_,_ fragile_, _empty, quitter_ and _coward_ clamored in my mind, sounding much more like screams than the silent self-opinions that they were. Perhaps the loudest scream of all was the one that dug the deepest, and brought my shame to its pinnacle. _What would Renee think of me?_

When I heard a knock at my door an hour into my Saturday afternoon spiral of defeat, I welcomed whoever might be on the other side. I was ninety-nine percent sure it was that annoying Tina from down the hall, coming to mooch some snacks off of us.

"Come in!" I hollered lazily, too comfortable to bother getting up to answer the door. Tina didn't require fanfare.

I heard the door creak open, prompting me to make a mental note for the thousandth time to get some WD-40, knowing full well I wouldn't likely ever buy any. I flipped on my bedside lamp and looked up, expecting to see moocher Tina with her bi-level haircut and PiKap sweatshirt. Instead, what my eyes took in made me choke on the Teddy Graham I'd just popped into my mouth.

"Hey, Bella." His voice sounded deeper than it did the last time we spoke. He also looked taller and thinner, and a short growth of stubble covered his face, adding maturity to his look.

My heart pounded wildly within me and my breath hitched. Instant tears brimmed my eyes, and my mouth burned dry. It was so strange for my body to react so instantly and intensely, all in the span of ten seconds.

My first instinct was to jump up and hug his neck and never ever let go, knowing his arms, as always, could calm me body and soul. Then I remembered how livid I was at him--how utterly and completely disappointed I was in him. I remembered that thanks to him, the heart within me was broken, shattered really, into so many pieces I doubted it could ever be put together again. I remembered that, because of his choices, I was the most lost and loneliest I'd ever been in my life, which was saying a lot.

I remained fixed in my spot, and willed my internally chaotic body back into submission. I wore a quite convincing version of my best stoic face. This is a difficult task when you're alternating between the fury of a woman scorned, sadness so thick you could drown in it, and a deep yearning to be wrapped in the arms of the very source of that scorn and sadness.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods, Edward?" My voice was eerily flat and devoid of inflection.

He shifted on his hiking boots nervously. Then he pulled off the Texas Rangers ball cap he'd become attached to in tenth grade, and ran his hand through his shock of quite long bronze-brown hair.

"You need a haircut," I said robotically and emotionless.

"Guess I do?" He attempted to smooth down his unruly locks. "Been away from my barber for awhile."

"I assume there are barbers where you've been." I mumbled flatly, through a steely, unwavering stare.

He looked up at me with wide wistful eyes, which under normal circumstances would have made me my world stand still. I was crouched behind a protective wall that had been four months in the making, and through it, his eyes, _those_ eyes could not penetrate.

"So why are you here?" I decided to cut to the chase, feeling that pleasantries were far more than Edward deserved.

"I just needed to see you." His voice was quiet and tremulous. I saw a flash of green as his eyes momentarily dared to connect with mine.

"That's funny. I figured that since you called me a sum total of three times in four months, you'd forgotten who I was. Or maybe it was the ten unanswered letters I sent, or the two care packages you never let me know you received. Or better yet, maybe it was your stunning grand finale letter that gave me that idea." My tone, this time, was nothing short of caustic.

"Bells, I don't know what to say."

"Why don't you just tell me why you're really here. The sooner you do that, the sooner you can leave."

"Alice called me."

"Oh, so you actually take her calls?"

"She called me because she's worried about you and the choices you're making."

"Oh, and she has so much room to talk. As we sit here, she's having sex in a greenhouse with a guy she's known for maybe ten days."

"No, she doesn't have room to talk. She's always been one choice away from jail, reform school or a hearse. But the difference is we expect that from her."

"But not from good old Bells. WhenI have fun or act my freaking age, the earth stops spinning on its axis."

Edward cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He tentatively sat down on Alice's daybed directly across from me. "No one is suggesting you not have fun or act eighteen. God knows I want nothing more for you than just that. But I can't help but be worried when words like drinking heavily, skipping class, and _Riley _are mentioned."

"Somehow I knew he'd come up." I was incensed that Edward would even feel like he had the right to utter my boyfriend's name. "What did Alice tell you?"

"That he's a total scumbag who doesn't respect you. She thinks he brings you down and you are in too far to see it."

"And to think, she's the one who introduced me to him."

"She mentioned that."

"Some friend." I muttered under my breath.

"She is your friend, who knows you best in the world, only second to me. And because of that, she's worried sick. She loves you and only contacted me because she says you won't listen to her."

"What makes her think I'll listen to you?" I could feel the volume of my words, as well as the pitch of my voice rising.

"Consider me the last ditch effort."

"Well, good last ditch effort, Edward, but consider your work here done. I don't need help, and if I did I certainly wouldn't seek it from you. In fact, you are the last person on the planet I'd ask for help," I spat, in a severe voice I hardly recognized.

He physically winced at my words. I'd spent my whole life caring so much about Edward's feelings and protecting them, but that day, I got a sick pleasure in knowing I could hurt him. Seeing his reaction made me want to elicit another.

"You really think you can disregard me like trash for four months and then just show up at your convenience on some kind of moral high ground? And then determine that my life, which you know nothing about anymore, is in trouble? Is that really how it works in your little Grace Trail world?"

"I know I've been out of touch. I'm sorry, but I told you I would be on the trail five of seven days. It was an insane schedule."

"I understood that, Edward. But are you really going to blame this on your schedule? How dumb do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're dumb at all," he replied quickly, but quietly.

"Then shoot straight with me. How hard would it have been to drop me a note? Or to call me for _five_ minutes, just to let me know you're alive?" Tears quickly filled my eyes. I found that I vacillated between anger and sadness, flipping from one to the other on a dime. The line between the two was strangely indiscernible. "How hard would it have been to carve out just five minutes of your day?" I whispered, wondering if the pounding of my heart was actually louder than my words.

"I don't know what to say?" His voice was nearly inaudible. He stared unwaveringly at my tiled floor as if his eyes were glued there.

"Well, you could start by explaining to me why, or better yet, how, you could just cut me off like that?"

He just shook his head, and ran his hands over his face and then up into his hair.

"Can you possibly understand how much you hurt me? You've been my best friend for almost nineteen years. The longest we'd gone without talking was two days. _Two_ days. You are my family, Edward. More my family than the one I was born in to. You told me I was the most important person in your life."

A strangled sob escaped from my throat. I swallowed hard to make the lump that followed it go back down. I took pause, understanding I was all too close to bawling, and I couldn't let that happen in front of a person I felt to be my enemy.

"And right before you left," I continued on, controlled and cautious, "things were so great between us, and it meant the world to me."

"It meant the world to you? So much so that you hooked up with a pothead and have done God only knows what with him?" His face was pained and he visibly shuddered. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and his features tensed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "I'm sorry, Bella. I shouldn't have said that."

Despite his apology, his words produced in me a rage. "Let's make something clear here, Edward. You gave up your right to say _anything_ to me months ago."

"I suppose you're right."

"You suppose?" I stood up from my daybed and began angrily pacing back and forth, requiring only eight short strides to get from one end of my room to the other. "I pined for you for months. You'll never know what that did to me. At first I made excuses for your behavior. I believed you must have been too busy on the trail to call or write. But in my heart I knew better, because I knew you made time to talk to your mom. So then I started pouring over our memories together trying to figure out what I'd done to deserve the cold shoulder."

"You didn't do anything, Bella."

"Just _stop_ Edward. Let me say this."

He nodded his head in concession.

I drew in a shaky breath and continued. "So then I decided you must have regretted getting so close to me before you left. I figured you must have wanted to take back everything that happened between us and didn't know how. So rather than telling me the truth, you just pulled away altogether."

"It's not like that. I don't regret us."

"Let's get one thing straight." I stopped my pacing, and turned to look at him squarely. "There is no us."

I saw his throat bob as he concertedly swallowed. "I, um," his voice wavered and he cleared his throat, "I never regretted anything that happened before I left."

"Then are you just cruel and heartless? No matter what, I would never write you off or forget about you. I wouldn't," I gripped my heart, as I had so become accustomed to in matters related to Edward, "because I couldn't."

My legs felt weak and heavy, so I lowered myself to my daybed once again, wrapping my arms tightly around my mid-section.

"I never forgot about you, Bella. I _couldn't_ do that either."

"So where were you?"

"Being in Colorado was a hard transition for me. Things happened. I was just so busy."

"Are you really going go with the whole busy excuse again? Seriously, Edward!"

"I _was_ busy. My internship was intense, and Carlisle began a building project on his land that I helped out with. Then I enrolled in school at the last minute at the end of summer."

"You did _what_?"

"There's a college in Fort Collins near the trail where I'm taking a few classes. Carlisle is footing the bill. It was an offer I couldn't refuse."

"So instead of coming back here to start school like we planned, you…you enroll in a school in Colorado and become some kind of honorary member of the Cullen family?" I sniffed. "Isn't that precious?"

"It all happened really fast, Bella. I got close to Carlisle and Emmett over the summer. I began to share my story with them. Mostly a lot of stuff about my dad, and how my mom struggles just to keep a roof over her head. When Carlisle offered to pay my tuition at Colorado State, I couldn't say no. I had to think of mom. I had to look at the bigger picture."

"A bigger picture that I clearly wasn't in."

"That's not true."

"Come on, Edward, would it have killed you to call me? Could you have just let me know what was going on? I didn't even know you were in school for goodness sake. That's kind of a big decision not to share, don't you think?"

"I know I should have called you. I handled everything all wrong." His jaw was set, and his eyes looked panicked. "The trail. School. You and me. It's all just really complicated."

"It's only complicated when you make it complicated."

"It's just that—"

The shrill ring of my phone filled the tiny room, making it impossible for him to continue his sentence. The answering machine picked up immediately as I had been screening calls that day, and most days at that.

After the beep, came a languid male voice, "Hey Bells. It's me. Just checking in. You weren't here when I woke up this afternoon. Just hoping your head doesn't hurt as bad as mine. But just like always, it was worth it, right? I need to see you today. Call me, beautiful."

As a flat dial tone sounded for several seconds before it cut off, Edward's pensive green eyes met mine. His lips were down turned. "Riley." It certainly wasn't an inquisition.

I nodded my head.

"Why?" Edward's voice was scratchy and weak.

By no means did I feel I owed him an explanation. At the same time, I had nothing to hide at that point, and I figured I might be able to hurt him again. The idea of that emboldened me.

"Alice started to get really worried about me about a month ago. I never told her what you'd done. Even then, I didn't want to give her ammunition to hold against you. But she knew why I was sad and withdrawn. I didn't have to spell it out for her to know that you being gone was killing me. Long story short, she literally threatened to contact the campus counseling department if I didn't start getting out and doing something besides work, study and wait for a boy who was never coming back for me.

"I recognized that Alice is just crazy enough to actually make good on that threat, so I made myself go out with her, just to get her off my back really. And that's when I met Riley. He's a friend of Alice's friend. Being with him, well, it was the first time I'd laughed or even smiled in such a long time. And it felt good--really, really good. That was a month ago and I've been seeing him since."

Edward winced again and his adam's apple rolled in a deep, forced swallow.

"And no, Riley isn't perfect. Hell, he's not even remotely right for me. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have touched him with a ten-foot pole. But at least he acknowledges that I'm alive, which is more than I can say for you. When I'm with him I feel wanted, and he takes my mind off things. It beats sitting in a tiny dorm room staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring. It beats breathlessly running to the mailbox everyday, only to find it empty_._ So yes, Edward, you can sit there and judge Riley all you want, but based on recent history, _he's_ not the one deserving of any kind of judgment."

"He doesn't love you, Bells. A guy like that is in it for one thing."

"I don't love him either." I said harshly, leveling him with my eyes. "I'm fully aware of what he wants. I went into it with my eyes wide open."

His face tightened up severely, and his full lips became a tight colorless line. "The Bella I know would never get mixed up with someone like him. He's changed you and I don't think you're seeing things clearly."

"I've never seen things so clearly."

"Meaning?"

"It's pretty pathetic when Alice is the most reliable person in my life right now. I can't count on anyone--not you and certainly not my dad. And when it comes down to it, if it suits your needs, all three of you are willing to hurt me without even blinking."

"That's not true."

I held up one finger. "Alice asks you to come swoop in and save me, even though she knows I wouldn't want her to ask you." I held up another. "And _you_ act like you never knew me for four months. You bail on our plans to start college together and you tell me you're not coming home in a freaking letter, of all things." Then I help up one last finger. "And my dad, well, he chooses to introduce me to his new live-in whore of a girlfriend, on my mom's birthday."

Then I shrugged and shook my head, ignoring the trail of tears escaping down my cheeks, "Like I said, willing to hurt me without blinking."

The color drained from Edward's face and he appeared to be genuinely shaken. "Bells, I had no idea about your dad. You must be devastated."

"How _would_ you know about it? That would have required you returning my phone call. The one where I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe, and all I could think about was talking to you. Hearing your voice. _Needing_ to know I wasn't alone. _You_ were the one I needed, and I couldn't get through to you. Did you not get the messages I left? Did you not get the letters? Or were they invisible to you just like I apparently am?"

His head was lowered, and he supported it with his hands, which I could see were trembling. His knee was bouncing up and down nervously, and I could hear him taking in haggard gulps of air.

"For four years I've been overlooked and completely unseen by my dad. I think that's the worst way someone can make you feel." I managed through my tears. "And of all the people in my life, _you_ were the one I was certain would never make me feel that way." Then I asserted my gaze his way, my eyes blazing with angry disappointment. "But you've treated me exactly how Charlie does, Edward. You're…you're no better than he is."

He actually looked up and met my gaze. His complexion was ashen, and tears pooled in his eyes. They spilled over and made their way freely down his cheeks. It was only the fifth time in eighteen years I'd seen him really cry.

His watery eyes pierced mine, looking a bright shocking green. His grief stricken gaze commanded my attention.

"Bella, you'll never know how hard it was for me to leave you that day in June. It killed me, and I've questioned the decision everyday. But it's something I had to do. Working the trail is something I _had_ to do. Can't you understand that?"

"I always understood that, Edward. But what I don't understand is how working the trail equaled cutting me out of your life. It didn't have to be that way. I was willing to wait for you." Then my voice became a whisper, and I said what I meant, but shouldn't have admitted. "Truth is, I would've waited for you forever and a day."

He closed his eyes at my admission. "I know I hurt you deeply. I make no excuses for that. But even so, I promise you were _never_ invisible to me."

"Then why? Why did you forget about me? About us? And don't blame it on being busy."

"I don't know how to explain it." He wore a look of frustration—one I'd seen often over the years when Edward couldn't meet his own expectations in some form of fashion.

"Just try. You've had four months to figure it out," I demanded harshly.

He gnawed on his thumbnail, staring down at the floor. Then he rubbed his eyes several times and exhaled, refusing to make eye contact.

I rose from my daybed and stood before him, feeling ten feet tall. With a finger pointed toward my door, I hissed, "Tell me now, or get the hell out, Edward. I am past ready to hear what you have to say. I've waited months to hear something…_anything_ from you. So just talk now, or get out and don't bother ever coming back."

At first, he actually cowered under my ultimatum. Then he took off his ball cap once again and threw it to the floor. Then he tugged on his hair with his hands and slumped his shoulders. His eyes remained fixed on the ground below.

I was just about to demand he leave when I heard the low rumbling of his voice rising from where he sat. "Bella, please sit down. I'll tell you. I'll try anyway."

Slowly, I backed up and perched myself on the edge of my bed.

He lifted his eyes, and they were so weary and despaired. The sight of him almost took my breath away, as the Edward of my mind's eye was always so bright and alive. This Edward was utterly defeated.

"The first time we talked on the phone after I got to the trail, something clicked in me. Hearing your voice…it made my chest feel hollowed out. It was too much and I couldn't take it. It's like I knew from that first call on, that I was one breath away from packing up my crap and coming back home to you. That wasn't an option for me.

"And when I called you those two times after that, I could barely make it through a conversation. I felt like I was gonna fall apart or something. It was the craziest feeling and I didn't know what to do with it. All I knew was I had to figure out how to manage our relationship and be at Grace too without losing my mind."

"I never knew I was something you had to _manage_." I muttered.

"It's not like that. I just needed time to think and to figure out how to make us work and how to give my job the best of me too. I decided to give myself a couple of days before I called you again just to get my head on straight. A couple of days turned into a week. A week turned into three, and before I knew it, six weeks had passed and I hadn't contacted you. It's like I shut down and I felt almost paralyzed. Like I was watching myself do something I knew I shouldn't do—something I didn't even want to do---but I couldn't make myself stop. I couldn't make a move. And I didn't know how to make it right. I'd dug myself into a hole and I didn't know how to get out." Edward's hands were white-knuckle clinched onto Alice's crimson bedspread, as if he were hanging on for dear life. "I'm still in that hole, Bella."

I connected with his words in a way he might not ever understand. He'd unknowingly described the way I felt about my whole relationship with Riley. I knew all too well what it meant to be stuck in a moment you didn't belong in or want to be in.

A part of me softened toward Edward, but only a small part. "All you had to do was call me and say exactly what you just told me. How hard would that have been?"

"It seems simple, but it wasn't simple and it still isn't."

"Don't say that, Edward."

"Bella, don't you get it? You aren't just some girl to me. I had to think things through. I had to do the right thing by you."

"And doing the right by me was ignoring me for months on end?"

"No! Obviously no." The muscles of his jaw worked underneath his skin, and his eyes were desperate. He took in a long staggering breath, and closed his eyes for several seconds. "Pulling away for four months was not the right thing. I am ashamed of how I treated you."

"Then why?" I whispered, feeling the weight of what he'd done in a new, more intense way. Sitting there and begging him for some kind of explanation left me wide open and vulnerable.

"You are the girl I have always protected and looked after. And not because you needed it so much, but because I wanted to. It's just how it is between you and me. Then I realized where we were headed, and it terrified me. It's not because I didn't want it to happen, but because I knew I would somehow end up hurting you. You saw the way I handled every relationship I've been in. Let's face it, you and I both know that I treat girls like crap.

"You aren't just some girl I could date for the fun of it. You aren't a girl I could handle treating that way. It _had_ to be different for us. _I _had to be different for us. Bella, I don't even know if I have what it takes to be the kind of guy you deserve. I mean, what if I'm really just my dad's son and I end up screwing you over? I _had_ to do it right with you, and I've never done it right with anyone before."

"But it was right. The weeks we spent together before you left were perfect and amazing. Then you just took it away with no explanation. It was right, and _you_ ruined it. You broke us." Then I paused, and uttered the very bottom line truth of it all. "You broke _me_."

"Please don't say that."

"But you did. And all you had to do was pick up the phone and talk to me about it. Tell me what you were feeling. Tell me you were scared. I could have handled it."

"But_ I_ couldn't have. You're not getting what I'm saying." He got up off Alice's bed and dropped to his knees in front of me. I looked down at this guy who towered over me physically in stature, and he looked so small and childlike.

"Hearing your voice, picturing your face and remembering the way your skin felt, hollowed me out." His voice became a whisper. "Bella, it _hollowed_ me out."

I just shook my head, in confusion. "You're not making sense at all. You're talking in circles and keep saying I hollowed you out? What's that even mean?"

"Bella, what I'm trying to say is that I realized…I realized my feelings for you had changed. They'd grown stronger."

"So you're telling me that because your feelings grew _stronger_, you severed all communication? And this line of reasoning actually makes sense to you?" I questioned him incredulously.

"No, it doesn't make sense!"

"Yet this is the explanation you offer me?"

"Just give me a minute here, Bella. Please."

"Have at it, Edward. Can't wait to hear what you come up with next." I answered him, with no attempt at masking my sarcasm or irritation.

"I'm not coming up with excuses here. I'm trying to find the right words."

With wide eyes and a furrowed brow, he looked vulnerable; perhaps as vulnerable as I felt. My heart fluttered ever so slightly as my eyes took him in. Enemy or not, he was still the same beautiful Edward who could disarm me with a glance.

"Fine," I breathed out in acquiescence.

"So it's like this," he started with a renewed vigor. "I got to Colorado and it's like my feelings for you sort of crystallized--like they became clearer than ever all of the sudden. Instead of sort of going with those feelings, I froze. I totally panicked, and I didn't deal with them at all. So I wrapped myself up in the trail. Carlisle is in the beginning stages of building a family camp, so there was always work to be done on that. I hung out with him and Emmett in my spare time. I did _anything_ to not have to deal with things. In the process, I ended up leaving our relationship by the way side. Does that make sense?"

"No, not really, Edward," I answered him tersely.

"It's not coming out right at all," he grumbled, raking his hand through his hair.

"At least we agree on one thing," I muttered under my breath.

He shut his eyes and a flush colored his cheeks. I could see his jaw muscles working underneath the skin. With his eyes still closed, he asked me in low, quiet voice, "You want to know why I was so scared? You want to know what it means when I say talking to you hollowed me out?"

"_Please_," I whispered in reply, wanting so badly to understand him. I was desperate to make sense of the past four months, and past ready for him to just spit out the truth already, whether it would hurt me or not.

He grabbed both my hands off my lap and held them tightly in his. I watched him lick his lips, take a deep breath, and then shut his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them back up, they were bright green and ablaze. Then came his words, which tumbled out of his mouth. "It means I'm love with you, Bella. Completely and madly in love with you. I'm in love with you, and it scares me to death because I don't have a clue what to do about it."

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**part 2 coming soon, b/c I have an awesome beta. :)**

**I am wondering if anyone saw this coming? A lot of you suspected another woman as the reason Edward disconnected from Bella.**

**...and just so you know, after part 2 we will finally meet present day Edward.**


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all._

_author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU_**.**

**I just want to say that I love my beta, klarsen18! **

**I want to thank my awesome readers who pimped this story on Edwardville, A Different Forest and The Gazebo (to be pimped is like the ultimate compliment in this FF world)! These are GREAT twi-fic sights where you can connect with other readers/writers, get story recs and more!**

**Check out my profile for a song that goes with this chapter (The Reason by Hoobastank. It is perfect except it's not from 1992...let's just overlook that, k?)...also visit my companion blog (link is on my profile page) for the visuals that go with Our Tree.**

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**...and onto the story. here is part 2, a direct continuation of the last chapter (1992, freshman year in college). you may want to re-read chapter 16 and go right into this one for continuity purposes.**

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**Chapter 17-- Part 2: The Irony of a Rainbow Bright Room (1992)**

"_It means I'm love with you, Bella. Completely and madly in love with you. I'm in love with you, and it scares me to death because I don't have a clue what to do about it."_

My breath hitched in my throat and a quiet gasp escaped from my lips. After all the rabbit trails Edward's explanations had taken, I hadn't seen his final proclamation coming. I hadn't seen it coming at all.

"I know I'm a fool, Bella. I shouldn't have pulled away. But it scared me to death and I didn't know what to do about it. I've never been in love before and I didn't know what to do about it_._" His eyes locked onto mine fiercely, yet tenderly. "Can you _please_ just tell me what to do about it?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Anything. Just say anything," he begged me.

It felt like my mind was spinning with a thousand contradictory thoughts. Erratic emotions—anger, relief, frustration, optimism, disappointment, and hope--ran circles in my head, and nothing at all made sense. Consequently, not a word found its way to my lips.

"Bells, please tell me you can forgive me. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'm begging you to forgive me. I know I've hurt you in the worst possible way, and I'm terrified I can't make it right." He glanced at my answering machine, as the sound of Riley's voice still hovered around us. "Tell me I'm not too late."

"You're such an idiot, Edward. You're a complete idiot!" Granted, I may not have answered his question, but I found my voice, and given the circumstance, that alone felt like an accomplishment.

Down on his knees, on my grimy tile floor, he looked completely crestfallen, as if my words had crushed him; deflated him.

"Am I too late?" he questioned me sadly.

"What do expect for me to say, Edward? What do you want from me?"

"I…I'm asking for…," then his voice gave way. He looked down at my floor, and grabbed at his hair. "What I'm asking for is a second chance, Bella."

When the words left his mouth, he lifted his face and looked at me through a fringe of dark wet lashes. I saw repentance and contrition there, so raw and real, my knees might have buckled had I been standing.

In the wake of Edward's remorseful gaze, I didn't feel the outrage I know I should have felt—the outrage I had every right to feel in response to what he'd put me through. I just felt heavy and sad. Taking in the broken boy before me, I realized all over again how desperately I'd missed him. Standing in my due outrage didn't feel important or even relevant.

"You want a second chance?" I repeated in a hushed tone.

"I do," he answered me in a sigh. "More than ever."

"And you expect me to trust you, Edward?" My question was not unkind, just completely honest. "What happens when you get scared again?"

"It won't happen. I won't get scared."

"How do you know that? How can you be so sure?"

"The _only_ thing I'm scared of is going through another four months without you."

"But you only came here because Alice forced you into to it. You're only here because I need rescuing again, and we both know it," I resigned.

His lips curved into a wistful smile. "Don't you get it? I'm here because _I_ need rescuing."

I shook my head skeptically. "You've got this new life in Colorado--tuition-free college, the trail, the Cullens. Sounds like you've done just fine without me."

"That's just it. It's meaningless without you. Anything I could ever have means nothing if I can't share it with you. Don't you understand? I can't _not_ have you in my life." He scooted closer toward me and grabbed my hands again. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. I know what I've done to you is unforgiveable, but I am begging you to forgive me. I am begging you to let me back in."

"I'm scared, Edward. I'm terrified," I shuddered. "I _cannot_ let you hurt me like that again."

"You have my word, Bells. I'm in this." His voice was earnest. His eyes were too, set on mine unmoving and unflinching.

"I really want to believe you," I breathed out, feeling my resistance whither.

"Then believe me," he begged of me.

Somehow I found myself down on my knees along with Edward, facing him. A posture I'd assumed without cognizant thought. My hand, seemingly on it's own accord found its way to his cheek. He leaned into it and I could feel him tremble at my touch.

"I'm so scared, Edward."

"I know you are. I'll do whatever it takes so you don't have to be scared anymore," he promised, "and I'll wait as long as you need me to. I'll give you all the time in the world to trust me again. I'll give you all the time it takes for you to love me back."

The corners of my mouth unexpectedly twitched into a smile, which I quickly covered with my hand. Then I began to giggle, despite myself. The giggle turned into a full on laugh. It was a solemn moment, and I felt certifiably crazy cackling like that, but there was no way I could suppress it.

Edward watched me cautiously. "Did I miss something?"

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you, Edward." I further composed myself for several seconds, and then said quite simply, "Square dancing, sixth grade."

His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. "I'm sorry?"

"_Everything _changed that day. It was the day I gave my heart to you, Edward. The day no other guy could ever or would ever measure up to you. So I'm laughing at this very moment, because you presume to be waiting for me to love you back, while the truth is, I've got the market cornered on the whole waiting thing."

His emerald eyes scanned my face. Then he blinked several times, as his confusion turned into clarity. "I never…I never really knew. Since sixth grade? I guess I'm pretty dense, huh?" he admitted sheepishly.

"Yes, you were _absolutely_ dense, but I'm so glad you were. For the better part of those six years I actually didn't want you to see through me. The thought of that petrified me actually."

"And now?" He reached out and placed his hand on the curve of my neck. I saw him hesitate at first, but his hand went forward on it's own, as if he couldn't resist.

"Edward, I'm scared of so many things. But you knowing how I feel about you isn't one of them anymore. I've got nothing left to lose at this point. It's not like our relationship could get any worse."

"No, it couldn't," he conceded soberly. "That's why I'm worried I'm too late."

"It probably should be too late. I should send you packing for what you've put me through, Edward Masen." My admission made my chest heavy, my throat thick. "In fact, I shouldn't be giving you the time of day right now. The truth is, I fell for you when I was twelve years old and have never gotten over it. And now I'm almost nineteen and I can't say that I'm much better off. You've dated other girls, made me madder than a hornet, and broken my heart to pieces. Even though it _should_, none of it changes the way I feel about you. I don't understand it myself, but it just doesn't."

He closed his eyes. A single tear sprung forth from each eye and trailed down his cheek into the corners of his mouth. With his eyes still firmly shut, he asked me unsteadily, "So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you don't have to wait for me. I love you, Edward. I always have, and I'm fool enough that I probably always will."

His eyes popped open and relief visibly washed over him. I'd seen the look before, that day so many years prior, when we watched his dad's U-Haul drive away down 67th street. It endeared me so, to see that same plaintive expression on his rugged face that time had matured so beautifully.

His face split into a glorious crooked smile, the kind I'd adored my whole life. The worry and tension that had settled themselves into his countenance, disappeared. He looked beautiful in that moment, almost otherworldly, and all I wanted to do was give him a million more reasons to smile just like that.

However, I knew it wasn't time for that yet.

"I do love you, Edward. I do, and as much as I want this to be some perfect moment, there are things we need to talk about."

He smoothed my hair and then placed his hand firmly on the back of my neck. "I know that, Bella. I'll talk to you about anything. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. I promise we'll talk until there's nothing left to talk about. We will get this worked out. I _will_ make this right."

I nodded my head, desperately wanting to believe the reassuring tenor of his words.

"I know I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be here with you. I don't deserve to be touching you or hearing your sweet voice again. I deserve none of it, but then again, I never did." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "I never doubted coming here today, Bella. I was long overdue. But I figured I'd get kicked to the curb, because I had that coming. I just hoped and prayed that you'd hear me out. That you might find it in your heart to talk to me and _maybe_ if I was lucky, you might consider accepting my apology. That's _all_ I came looking for. I didn't even dare to hope for more than that."

"You know I've never been able to stay angry at you for long, Edward. Actually, its one of the things about you that is the most maddening. You also know I've always forgiven you, but it takes me a little longer to forget."

With that, he leaned in toward me, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. "I can wait forever and a day too, you know."

I found myself mesmerized by the way his beautiful green eyes looked in such proximity. I wanted to lose myself in them and the rightness of the moment, but my heart was racing within me, forcing me to speak.

"Edward, you need to know something."

"What is it?" His voice was laced with unease.

"When you left me in June you said I was strong. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"It's just that after it became clear I wasn't going to hear from you, and especially after your letter came, I sort of fell apart. As it turns out I'm not so strong after all." A new wave of tears, this time tears of shame, swam in my eyes.

"Don't say that, Little Bit. You are still the strong person you've always been."

"You don't understand the extent of it. My life is a complete mess. And Edward, I'm…" I bit my lip, searching for the right way to say what I urgently needed to say, but was so ashamed to. "I'm not the girl you left four months ago. I'm…I'm damaged goods now. Riley and I…"

My voice trailed off. I couldn't bring myself to utter the actual words. From the look on his face, Edward didn't need to hear them to know what I was trying to convey.

He closed his eyes and grimaced. When he opened them again I saw grief there, as if he hurt as badly as I did. He caressed my cheek with his thumb and spoke in a voice not much louder than a whisper. "Not to me. You could never be that to me. I love you, Bella, and _nothing_ you've done or haven't done can change that."

I desperately wanted to say something back. Something profound and deep, or even just the simple three words he'd just made my life with. All words failed me, though, and tears silently fell from my eyes. It was a purging kind of cry. The kind of cry I couldn't get enough of. It was as if I was finally confessing, out loud, the truth of what I'd become. Through the regret and the indignity, there was something akin to liberation as well.

"The things I've done can't be undone, Edward. There's a part of me missing now. A part I always planned to save for the right person. Yet I gave it away to some random guy who has never been worth my time," I choked out. "I'm ashamed and I'm broken. I don't even recognize the person I've become."

His arms surrounded me and he pulled me to his chest. I felt myself go limp in his fold. I wanted and needed him to keep me together.

"I still recognize you, Bella, and I can tell you who you are--who I know you to be." He pulled away from me and forced me to look at him. His bottom lip trembled almost indiscernibly, but he quickly steeled himself with a deep inhalation. With his eyes focused powerfully on mine, he began talking in a low, coarse voice. "You are still the same girl whose smile lights up my whole world. You are the same girl who weathers every crappy thing that comes her way, with bravery and courage. You are the same girl who has taught me everything I know about loyalty and really being there for someone. You are the same girl I've loved my whole life, whether I knew it or not. _That's_ who you are."

"No, Edward. That's who I _was_."

"It's who you still are, Bella. You just got a lost for a little while. It's happens to the best of us. Hell, I've been lost for a while too, but the fact is it's never too late. We are both finding our way back now."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Completely." The corners of his mouth tilted up into the smallest of smiles.

"Then I need you to believe it enough for the both of us."

"I can do that," he murmured.

"I don't like who I am without you, Edward." I admitted. I wasn't shamed by it. It was simply the truth.

Every beautifully defined edge on his face relaxed, and his eyes softened in the corners. "I don't like me without you either. I love you, Bella. With everything that I am, I love you."

I'd dreamed of hearing him say those three little words since I was twelve years old and Edward took ownership of my heart. Now that my dream was coming true before my eyes, it felt nothing like what I'd imagined. That's because my imagination was incapable of creating something so perfectly imperfect.

Me, in my boxer shorts and no makeup, a snotty nose and tear stained cheeks. Troubled and lost, I was a shell of the levelheaded girl I'd always prided myself in being. Edward, all rugged and grizzly-ed out, so fresh from the mountains he could've smelled of evergreen. He was lost in his own right and in a much different way, but humbly returning to me like a prodigal son.

We made an odd couple for sure, on our knees face-to-face and heart to heart. No matter where he and I had come from on our screwed up journeys that led to that very place in time, the moment was nothing short of sacred.

He moved one hand to the back of my head and placed the other on my lower back. I could see in his eyes what he wanted to do, yet there was uncertainty there. I leaned in to answer his doubts, and he immediately drew me toward him, bridging the remaining space between us. When his lips met mine, they were soft and tender yet strong and deliberate.

At first, he simply froze, leaving his lips motionless on mine, and he inhaled. I wondered if our connection had made him breathless like it did me. He sat still for several beats, breathing me in and tracing circles on the small of my back. Then he moved slowly but with purpose, melting himself into me. As he wove his fingers through my hair, his kiss became intentional, almost greedy, and desperate in the best possible way. Every cell in my body responded. I found myself gripping his hair with urgency, wanting the leverage just so I could pull him in closer. As his mouth moved underneath mine and opened, I felt all rational thought and presence of mind fly away. I was lost in every part of Edward, relishing the gentle command of his touch and the feel of his body—something I'd only dreamed of doing. It was like nothing I'd ever known.

He was the boy I'd known for life. In ways, I knew him better then he knew himself, but there was always a side of him---one that mystified and intrigued me---that I'd never had access to or become acquainted with. A side of him I'd only gotten a teasing glimpse of months before when he gave me a solitary kiss goodbye. That night, as I finally got a suitable introduction to that other part of him, I decided it had been well worth the wait.

The afternoon was spent kissing and touching and holding--clinging to each other, really, as if our very lives depended on it. I found that even though I felt like such a changed person--such a shadow of my former self--I still fit perfectly, precisely in my spot on Edward's chest. The lovely cadence of his heartbeat still calmed me and called to me, but even more powerfully than before. I couldn't get close enough to him. I couldn't wrap my arms around him tightly enough. The way in which he clung to me and tangled his body with mine, let me know he suffered from the same lovely affliction.

Several hours later, Edward looked at his watch and sighed.

"What is it?" I asked, nestled in the crook of his arm.

"I have to go, Bells."

Panicked, I forced out, "What do you mean?"

"I have to get back to Grace and to school."

Dread welled in my chest and gathered in my throat. "Already?"

He brushed my forehead with his lips, and then turned my body so that I faced him.

"I literally had a forty eight hour period to make this trip, Bells. I need to leave here soon if I want to get back in time."

When my bottom lip began quivering, he placed his mouth on mine to still the trembling. Then he gathered me in his arms securely.

"I don't want to go. You have to know that," he murmured in my ear, placing soft kisses on my ear lobe. "I have classes on Monday. They need me at the trail."

"What if_ I_ need you?"

"I will be here for you. We're going to ace this long distance thing. You'll see."

"Why can't you just come home?" I whimpered, burying my face in his neck.

"Carlisle pays me an insane amount of money to work for him. He's paying my tuition, which is saving my mother a lot of heartache. How can I say no to that?"

"What would make someone do all this for you? What does Carlisle want from you?" I questioned him warily, finally voicing the concern that had brewed in me all afternoon.

"Nothing, Bella. He wants nothing from me. He's just a decent guy who has taken an interest in me and wants to help me out. Please don't act like there's some ulterior motive to it."

I could tell from his tone that I was treading on sensitive territory.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm glad he is so good to you. You deserve that, Edward. I'm just not looking forward to being apart again." _ And having you forget about me for a second time_. My eyes welled up with tears.

"I don't want to be apart either." He used his thumbs to catch the moisture that was already escaping from my eyes. "You have to trust me this time. I promise to never let you down again. I know that me being in Colorado and you back here is not ideal, but we'll make it work."

He found his way to the curve of my neck, a spot--I'd learned over the course of the afternoon--he quite liked to nuzzle and caress with his lips. "Will you just give it a chance?" he murmured between kisses. "Can we please give it a try?"

"I think I can do that," I yielded, wondering if my acquiescence had more to do with his touch, his lips and that velvet voice than anything else.

"You won't regret it," he said with complete confidence. "Forever and a day, Bella. I mean it."

"Forever and a day," I repeated hesitantly, in a whisper.

He leaned in and feathered my jaw line with the softest of kisses, and he made his way to my lips once more. Then I laid my cheek on his chest and again frantically listened for the steady thump, allowing it to subdue me as our minutes together dwindled away.

Unable to pull himself away when he should've hit the road, Edward finally left my dorm room in the dark of night, and headed back to Colorado. I sat there by myself, still surrounded by him, even though he was long gone. Part of me wondered if I had truly gone mad and dreamt the whole thing, because he'd come and gone so quickly. The only real evidence of him was a bit of mud on my white tiled floor, and the quickening of my heart as I remembered his every heavenly touch.

What we had shared was the stuff of movies and romance novels, but better. It was something I hadn't given myself permission to hope for. If I had even dared to dream of it, I would have never envisioned the single detail that made it all that it was to me. Edward had declared his love to me first, not coerced and completely on his own terms.

Certainly, I would've preferred that the prior four months had not taken place. The girl I'd become and the things I'd done hurt me deeply, and regret threatened to swallow me whole at times. If enduring all that darkness was what had been required for Edward and I to finally come together, I could at least find some purpose in the pain.

I decided that night as I sat on my bed, that it was time to clean house in my wreck of a life. I would begin with my worst habit first.

I called it off with Riley Jones the next morning in a most immature of ways--over the phone. I could hear a girl giggling in the background when I called him, so as it turns out, a phone break up was actually more than he deserved. Purging him from my life instantly lightened my burden.

Then I cut up my fake ID, as well as all the photos of "drunk" Bella--with cloudy eyes and a seedy, lazy smile--and tossed them in our trashcan. I didn't want anything to remember my month of destructive decisions by.

Finally, I spent the rest of the weekend figuring out exactly what it would take for me to salvage the semester's grades. It wouldn't be easy, but I if I worked diligently, I could possibly manage to meet the lowest G.P.A. requirement to get into the nursing program. School had always been my thing, and I figured if I just actually started attending class, I would have half the battle won.

Edward's visit and everything I did following it marked a huge turnaround for me. I felt optimistic for the first time in awhile, but admittedly very cautiously so. With every ounce of hope I could muster, there was an equal amount of uncertainty and dread threatening to reign supreme.

The following Tuesday I found something in my tiny dorm mailbox that actually gave my hope two feet to stand on.

It was simple postcard, and on the front was a picture of a Jackalope. It was campy and comical looking, very much along the lines of the humor of its sender. On the back of it was written in a scrawl I'd recognize from a mile away:

_B-_

_Nice postcard, huh? Got it at a truck stop in some small town on the way back to Grace. Just wanted you to know it will be different this time. You'll see. I miss you already and I love you. Forever and a day…EAM_

I carried that postcard with me for two full days, pulling it out to re-read it so often the edges of it became bent and tattered. Sometimes I even drew it up to my nose to smell it, as I swore Edward's scent could be detected on it, even if ever so slightly. And always, I held it to my heart. I'd pray over and over, that it would be the first, but definitely not the last of it's kind.

I wanted to believe Edward's words. I wanted to trust that he wouldn't get scared again. I wanted to believe that we were strong enough to make the impossible work.

Yet, what I wanted was irrelevant really, when it came down to it. I needed Edward Anthony Masen. I _required_ him, as I did air and water. I understood the depth of that requirement only after seeing what had become of me without him.

This is why I chose to forgive what might have been to some, unforgivable. This is why I gave a second chance when I didn't have to. This is why I would take what I could get—long distance woes and all my insecurities included. This is ultimately why I took an illogical gamble, and risked my heart on the boy next door all over again.

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**thank you for reading Our Tree. you have no idea what it means to me!**

FYI...defn of a jackalope if you aren't familiar: The **jackalope** is an imaginary animal of North American folklore (a so-called "fearsome critter") described as a jackrabbit with antelope horns or deer antlers and sometimes a pheasant's tail (and often hind legs).

**and just so you know. next up: year 2000, Bella goes to see Edward. (finally, right!)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.  
**

**As always, I am indebted to my wonderful beta, klarsen18.**

**_Chapter 18 is Bella's trip to see Edward in 2000...finally, right?_**

* * *

**Chapter 18-Present Day (February 2000)**

Exactly how long I sat in front of Edward's Fort Worth duplex, I'll never know. All I do know is that his next door neighbor stepped out her front door, apparently went grocery shopping and returned to unload seven grocery bags. This all took place while I sat frozen in my car, affixed to the front seat.

I knew Edward was inside his duplex this whole time too, even though I never actually saw him. It was as if I could feel him in there. I could sense he was near me, somehow. Plus, his 1994 silver Volvo, a.k.a. Bullet, which had only very recently replaced the El Cam, was parked out front.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to knock on his door. I was resolved to be there, prepared to finally find closure or whatever in the heck I was there to find. Making my almost paralyzed body move toward that reality was a whole different matter.

My watch read 10:45am, and I knew I needed to make a move quickly, or I might miss my window altogether. It was one of Edward's precious days off and he was sure to step out and leave his duplex at some point.

I forced myself to make a few final primps. I fluffed my hair, which was currently and completely coincidentally at Edward's all time favorite bobbed length, and I reapplied a coat of lip-gloss. I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to look good for him.

I willed my immovable body out of the car, and found that making the brief walk up his front sidewalk was nothing short of drudgery. All too soon, I found myself at his beat up front stoop, watching my shaking fingers balled into a fist, knocking on the door. Hastily, I smoothed the front of my jeans, and wrapped my pink pashmina tightly around my shoulders like a security blanket.

With bated breath, my ears heard him work the locks from the other side of the door. Then he pulled on it two times to edge the door from it's worn out frame. Finally, it swung open and before me, there he stood. Tall and sinewy, he wore a tight white undershirt and light blue scrubs slung low on his hips. His hair, as always, was untidy, but somehow just right. He was every bit, and completely unknowingly a Calvin Klein model.

Edward had turned out to be what Alice coined a human bottle of wine. Her theory was that some people, like wine, only got better with age. In Edward's case, with each year that passed, he grew more comfortably into his sharp jawline and sculpted cheekbones.

The sight of him accelerated the rhythm of my heart, just like it always had for so many years, for so many reasons. Any equilibrium I had mustered in my truck minutes before, was completely teetering just because he stood near me--just because my eyes beheld him. All I could do, besides gawk at this beautiful creature, who stirred so many things within me, was silently and quite nervously grin from ear to ear.

His emerald eyes turned into saucers, and a smile of his own, a smile I treasured and knew like the back of my hand, slowly crept across his features.

"Bella?" he breathed out.

"In the flesh," I said stupidly, as I gave him some kind of weird little wave. My nerves were at an all time high, and I felt my smiling lips start freakishly twitching.

"What are you doing here?" he inquired, as he stepped toward me and pulled me into an embrace. It was just a friendly hug--a hug between two friends who hadn't seen each other in a year. Yet, the electricity that characterized any contact between Edward and I, began to stir on contact.

"I was in the area and couldn't resist dropping in on my favorite med student," I replied lightly, as my head rested on his chest, in _my_ spot. _Or what had been my spot_. The thought of it pained me.

He pulled away from me, leaving his hands on my shoulders, and his eyebrows tweaked ever so slightly, as his eyes studied me.

"What?" I replied quickly, wondering in panic if I had something on my face or if I had grown a third eye.

"It's just strange for Bella Marie Swan, at least the one I know, to just drop by unannounced." His face took on a very concerned look. "Is there something wrong?"

"No." I sighed. "Alice had the same reaction when I showed up on her doorstep yesterday. Am I that predictable?"

"I think we all are in our own way," he chuckled, pulling me into a hug again. "When did you get so tiny, anyway?"

"I've been the same height since eighth grade. Hence the myriad of nicknames, including but not limited to, Little Bit."

He smiled widely. "One mustn't forget Short Stuff, Lilliputian, and Webster. But Little Bit has always been my personal favorite." He pulled away from me again, this time wrapping one arm around my shoulder. He gently pushed me forward and guided me in through the front door. "Come on in, Little Bit. Let's catch up."

I took a step inside, which felt more like a huge leap. There was no turning back.

"The place is a wreck. I'm either at school, the library or the hospital. I don't even bother to clean up because I'm never here."

"You must be exhausted," I added, while silently wondering why he hadn't mentioned Tanya and how she fit into his list of places where he spent his time.

"Yeah, but it's something I've gotten used to. Just a way of life, I guess."

His duplex was quite simple. A black leather couch, a plaid garage sale armchair and minimal furniture that was clearly pieced together and not bought as a set. And in the middle of it all was the piece de resistance for every bachelor pad--a large screen television in an entertainment center, also equipped with a fancy stereo and some kind of gaming system.

I smiled to myself, because I expected to see it there. I also laughed on the inside thinking of how much money Edward had put into his AV equipment, yet he chose to live in a shady neighborhood in a tiny, old duplex.

"I like your place. It's very you," I commented quietly.

"What? Cluttered, old, and dumpy?"

"Well, yes, that," I deadpanned, "but also comfortable. It's comfortable, like you."

"Guess that's a word for it. I need to find something better probably. And I will someday. It's just easy here and it's so close to the hospital. I hate to think of having some kind of awful commute. I ride my bike everywhere I need to be, and I love that. It's like the only exercise I get anymore."

He moved a pile of newspapers, clearing a spot on the couch for me. After he patted the cleared space in invitation, I sat down. He perched himself on the opposite end of the sofa and faced me.

"Man, it's good to see ya, Bells. What an awesome surprise." He concluded his sentence with a dazzling crooked smile.

I instantly blushed, feeling thirteen all over again, believing right then and there that Edward Masen would have that effect on me until I was old and grey. "It's good to see you too, Edward."

My eyes met green. I could've melted under that gaze.

"Um, so how is school and work?" I inquired, scrambling for something—anything--to say.

"Good. Great really. I'm finding my groove, I think, and 3rd year is kind of awesome because we are out of the classroom and actually seeing patients. The studying is killing me, which is no big surprise. I've never applied myself like this. And working as an orderly sucks, but it's great experience I think."

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"And even though the work load is hard, I love it. A part of me worried I would settle on medical school and get into it, just to find that I hate it. But in my gut, I know it's right."

"That doesn't surprise me at all."

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"You've always been smart, Edward. And you're a fixer. In fact, nothing irks you more than not being able to fix something," and I added silently in my head, _or someone_. "Becoming a doctor is just an extension of that, in my estimation."

"Can't argue with that I suppose," he replied, giving me another death-by-smile, crooked grin.

"I bet you're a great orderly too. The best," I added quietly, feeling wistful that I could only guess about such things. We weren't close enough anymore for me to know, really know, something like that.

"I do my best and I work hard. That's all I have to offer. It's not rocket science, but in it's own way, it's important work. Plus, most med students don't work…it's almost impossible to fit it all in. I have been able to manage somehow, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that my work and school are at the same place."

I looked at him closely, noticing a shadow of blue under each tired eye, and the prominence of his cheekbones—a tell tale sign that he hadn't been eating well. "You must be burning the candle at both ends, Edward."

"Says someone who'd know exactly what that looks like." He winked.

My cheeks burned crimson. I silently chided myself, realizing I simply had to get it together or my entire mission for being there would fall by the wayside.

"So, tell me about your life, Bells." He reached over and flicked the bottom of my hair. "How's the remodel coming?"

"It's all done besides the guest bath. It's still peach, god awful 1960's peach."

"So what's the hold up?"

"It's a big project, and I ran out of steam. Lots of demo, lots of details, and I'm just done. Got nothing left." _Plus, I have to plan a wedding that is slowly but surely eroding my stomach lining._

"You need to set Mike loose on that," Edward added helpfully, not knowing that the mention of Mike's name wrenched my stomach.

"He's not that kind of guy. He wants me to hire it out actually. He offered to cover the expense even. But I'm not ready to do that just yet."

Edward appeared to be processing what I'd said for several seconds. "Well, if it's still not done by the time I come home again, I will personally help you demo the thing. I actually like the whole demolition process. Deal?"

"Deal," I agreed, finding that I wanted nothing more than a guarantee that I would see him again.

"Can I get you something to drink? I've got water, coffee, the Dew, and um, that's probably it. It's pretty sparse around here. Most of my eating and drinking takes place outside of these four walls."

"No thanks. I had a diet coke on the way over."

"Should've known. Pretty sure your insides are pickled by now from the massive amounts of that stuff you consume."

"I've cut back, I'll have you know. I'm down to one a day. Albeit a very large one, but still just one."

"Good for you." He grinned, flicking my hair once more, as if he just couldn't resist doing so. Definitely his favorite hair on me.

He stood up, walked over to the bar that separated his living room from the kitchen. He snatched a worn grey t-shirt, bearing a bold _Grace Trail_ in blue lettering_,_ off a bar stool and pulled it over his head.

"Sorry about the whitey tighty." He grinned sheepishly. "I probably looked kind of trailer park, huh?"

_Not so much._

"Been back to Grace lately?" It seemed like an obvious question, as well as a good way to put off the inevitable.

"Went back a few months ago to see Emmett and Carlisle. Rosie had her baby! And you wouldn't believe the place. The camp is huge. Probably double the size it was during my time there. That guy is such a visionary."

"Carlisle always was. Definitely ahead of his time," I admitted diplomatically, knowing better than to be anything but.

Edward made his way back over to where I sat. He plopped down beside me, this time not leaving so much space between us. I could easily smell his fresh from the shower scent and it washed over me like nostalgia itself.

"It's been too long since I've seen ya, Bells. What's it been," he paused to calculate, "like a year?"

"Just about. We've both been busy. And the whole you and I thing is pretty…" I took pause to search for the word.

"Complicated," he finished for me.

"Yes, complicated covers it nicely I think."

Our eyes connected for several beats, and I easily got caught in his gaze once more. All I could hear was the loud thump of my heart in my ears. I wondered if he could actually hear it too, and I feared I was as transparent to Edward as I felt. In his lovely pools of green, I saw the flicker of many emotions; some easily defined and some as yet unnamed. Complicated indeed.

He cleared his throat, and blinked a couple of times "It's amazing you caught me home, Bella. My Saturday shifts are so variable lately. Sometimes I'm on days and others I'm on nights."

"Actually, its not amazing, really." I admitted bluntly, sensing it was time to get down to business. The small talk, though a good distraction, was coiling my nerves into the tightest of balls. "I wasn't just in the area, Edward. I came to Fort Worth because I need to talk to you about something."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh."

"I know it's a bit stalker-ish," I replied, remembering Alice's spare-no-punches description, "but I really needed to connect with you, so I called the hospital. I asked the right questions and figured out your shifts."

The corners of his mouth twitched into an uneasy smile. "You were always thorough."

"Look, Edward, I'm going to shoot straight with you. You're probably wondering why in the heck I'm here. And I know you have a thousand things to do on your day off. So I am going to show you that respect and just cut to the chase. Is that alright by you?"

"Sure, it's fine by me," he answered, slightly taken aback. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and licked his lips. "But you need to know, I always have time for you, Bella. And I'm really happy to see you. There's nothing I need to do on my day off that could be more important than you." His eyes locked on mine in earnest, and I felt my stomach lurch into my throat.

"Thanks." It was all I could manage.

He leaned back on the couch and rested his arm on the back of it. His posture was relaxed and he looked comfortable and ready to listen, but the ever so slight trembling of his fingers, and the repeated bobbing of his throat, told a different story. "So, um, what is it that we need to talk about?"

Exhaling loudly, a million thoughts ran through my mind. Uncharacteristically, I truly hadn't scripted the conversation. I was planning to just go with my gut, and at that moment, my gut prompted me to raise my left hand up to Edward.

His eyes zoomed in on my left ring finger and I saw several reactions filter through his expressive eyes. The one he landed on--the sentiment that remained, oddly enough--was a look of perplexity.

"It's an engagement ring," I whispered.

"Oh, I know that. It's just…" His voice trailed off.

"It's just what?"

He bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "With all due respect, the ring is beautiful. You can't look at that and not see it's flawless. Gorgeous. But, it's not...it's not _you_."

His gaze moved from my hand up to my eyes and back to my hand. He looked apologetic and hesitant. "I guess I would've picture you with a simple band or maybe some kind of family heirloom."

_Like your Grandmother's ring that sits in Esme's fireproof safe as we speak?_

He diverted his eyes from me and ran his hand through his hair several times. "But what do I know, right?" he mumbled as an afterthought, as the apples of his cheeks flushed with color.

I felt the tears making their way to the surface, and I fought them back. Everything in me wanted to let them freely flow. Edward knew the ring wasn't me, just as I had known the moment I laid eyes on it. He understood that, because he understood me. That was exactly why I was sitting on his couch, and exactly why I couldn't lie to myself any longer and pretend all I wanted with this man was closure.

"Well, Mike is into nice things I guess," I went on, scrambling to keep my thoughts cohesive. "He was raised with money, and has made a lot of it as an adult. He likes to spend it."

It sounded so obtuse as I said it, and I felt I was misrepresenting my sweet fiancé, making him sound materialistic. Then again, I guess for all practical purposes, he _was_ a little money-focused. He was money-focused with the kindest of hearts. Still, I felt the need to defend him. "I guess he thinks receiving gifts, and nice things, makes me feel loved?"

"So when do you think he'll figure out that gifts don't cut it for you? Because it's kind of stupid for him to keep buying you expensive things, when you could care less about stuff like that."

"I suppose your right." I sighed.

"Well, regardless, you're definitely _worth_ the expensive gifts." Edward added quickly. He leaned across the couch and gave me quick side hug. Then he placed the chastest of kisses on top of my head. Yet to me, it wasn't chaste at all, and as soon as his lips disconnected, I wanted them back.

"Congratulations, Bells. Mike is a lucky man."

I smiled weakly and subconsciously twisted the rock on my left ring finger, so that the giant stone was on the underneath side of my hand and all that showed was the band.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Bells, I appreciate you coming to tell me about your engagement in person. I really do. But you could've saved yourself the trip and just called me. I'm not going to lie. It hurts to think of you married to someone else, but I knew it was coming. I've prepared myself for that. And if you're happy, well," his eyes, in an instant, turned pensive, "that's all I've really ever wanted."

His jaw muscles worked under his skin, clenching and unclenching. It killed me to see him like that. I could only imagine how I would feel if the tables were turned. Yet, a huge part of me savored his reaction. Had he not shown even the smallest hint of angst, my heart would have broken. He had though, and my resolve was only strengthened by it.

"That's just it." The words left my mouth before I processed them.

"What's just it?"

"I don't know if I'm happy." My voice cracked on the last syllable. I cleared my throat and concertedly swallowed. "I'm here because ever since Mike put this thing on my finger," I grabbed the ring and carelessly slammed it down on the coffee table in front of me, as if it were from a gumball machine and not Tiffany's, "I've barely been able to function, and all I can think of…" My voice trailed off and my heart raced a mile a minute in my chest.

"What? What is it?" His leaned in toward me and cupped my shoulder with his hand.

"All I can think of is _you_. You, Edward." Tears sprung forth and ran down my cheeks. I swiped my eyes with the back of my hands. My movement caused his hand to leave my shoulder, and I instantly missed the weight of it.

I looked down at the ring on the table, and realized how good it felt to not have it strangling my finger. Then I pictured Mike's ever-happy face, and became overwhelmed with guilt.

As Edward spoke, he stared at the ring too. His voice was subdued and gravelly. "Bella, haven't we been down this road?"

"I suppose we have. But I'm asking you to go down it just one more time. For me."

"What's left to say?" he questioned me, not unkindly.

It was a loaded question. I knew I could make one of two choices. I could dance around the issue at hand and make him drag it out of me. This was a risk, because he might not actually succeed in doing that.

My other option was to bear my heart. I could swallow my pride, and take what I was sure to be my final opportunity, to let him know how I felt about him. Younger Bella almost always chose option one. It was safe and it was how it worked between Edward and I. But mature Bella--desperate Bella--went down the other road.

"There's a lot left to say actually," I whispered nervously. "Just answer me one thing?"

"Fine." He quietly conceded, staring down at his hands.

"Do you miss me at all?"

"Of course I do. You're family."

"Do. You. Miss. _Me_?"

He exhaled in frustration. "Bella, don't go there."

"Why not?" I dared him. My boldness, a tangible indication of the desperation I felt.

"Because it never ends well and you know it."

"What if I know that and I still want to talk about it?"

"We'll just say things we don't mean, and drudge up the same old crap. The trail, the Cullens, medical school…"

"Or we'll say exactly what we mean, Edward. I'm not even a bit scared of hearing anything you might say, even if it hurts. I'm not scared of talking about all our mistakes! The only thing I'm scared of, terrified of really, is moving forward with this wedding, while my," I took pause, realizing the truth of my words, "while my gut is telling me to run to you and never look back."

Edward shoved his both hands into his hair and pulled at it agitatedly. "Bella, please stop."

"No. Let me say this. I can't help what I feel. You're here." I grabbed his hand and held it over my heart. "You're always here. It's like you haunt me. And when I think of letting that go, it's the scariest thing of all. I don't want to. I don't want to let go of you. I can't."

"Bella, I know it's hard. It's hard for me too." He glanced at his hand, which was still over my heart, and pulled it away slowly. "But I can't help but think that we both have to move on. I mean, how many times have we tried to make it work? And how many times have I only ended up hurting you?"

"As I recall, we only ever officially gave it a go one time."

"Official or not, we both know it was more than once."

"Whatever. But every attempt was long distance. Never just you and me face-to-face, day in and day out. The distance is what killed us every time, and in your heart you know I'm right."

"It's irrelevant now." His face was tensed and stern. He jammed his thumbnail into his mouth and began to gnaw.

"It's hardly irrelevant." I reached over and clutched his forearm, loving the feel of his skin, even in such an anxious moment. "Look at me, Edward. Look at me and tell me you don't feel it too. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don't still love me, I will walk out of here and never bother you about this again."

But he didn't look at me. In fact, he looked everywhere but in my eyes. "You're killing me here, Bells. You know I love you. You're my longest and best friend. No matter what, you'll always be that for me." His gaze landed on my hand, which was still gripping his forearm. He stared at it tenderly, then sighed inaudibly.

"You know very well what I'm asking, Edward. Don't skirt the issue."

He stood up from the couch and began to pace the living room floor. "I have a theory about you, Bella."

I was fully aware of the abrupt change of direction—his blatant skirting of the issue--as well as the fact that he evaded my question.

"A theory?" I fell into the back cushion of the couch and crossed my arms across my chest.

"You have a great guy who provides you stability, and a completely drama free, complication free relationship. Right?"

"Pretty much."

"You don't know what to do with that, do you? You are so used to settling for less than what you deserve that you can't deal with something…," he struggled to find his words, "something healthy and worthy of you."

"Gee, thanks for the insight. Didn't know I have my own personal psychologist."

"Come on, Bella. I'm just calling it like I see it. We've always been honest with each other. I owe you that."

"So you want honesty?"

"Of course I do."

"You're not the only one that can do the psychoanalyze thing."

He dropped down into an armchair directly across from me. "Can't wait to hear this."

"_You_ have always been sure to date someone, only if there is a guarantee it won't work out in the end."

Edward sat up straighter at my accusation, his eyes searing into me as I spoke.

Undaunted, I continued on. "In high school you dated bimbos. Very pretty bimbos, who in actuality, you could only stand to be around for a very short period of time. Then in college it was me, and we always had hundreds of miles between us, which was just a form of relationship homicide. And now, you're with Tanya, who by law is still married. Who by law, you_ can't_ marry."

"That's ridiculous," he scoffed.

"Maybe, but it's true."

He stared at me for several beats. His sober eyes bored into me, scrutinizing my face relentlessly. "From what mom tells me, this Mike is stable, loyal, attentive?"

"Yep."

"He can provide for you and he's completely in love with you?"

"Uh huh."

"After all you've been through, you deserve exactly what he gives you. Can't you see he's the right one for you?"

"He's only the right one for me on paper."

"He's right for you in the ways that count."

"That's a matter of opinion."

"Regardless, why in the hell can't you be happy about marrying this guy?"

"Well, that's an easy one," I laughed cynically.

Edward tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes.

"It's true that he's all those things and more," I leaned in and found those heavenly green eyes, "but he's not you. Of all the things Mike Newton is or ever will be, he'll never be you, Edward. And that is why I can't find it in myself, no matter hard I try, to be happy about marrying him."

It was one of those times when everything around you becomes fuzzy and undetailed, and the only thing of any regard, is that which is right before you. In this case, Edward's familiar face was all that mattered to me. It was all I saw.

"He'll _never_ be you," I whispered again, meaning it heart and soul. "No one will ever be you."

It was like I could see my words fall on him one by one. His guarded, battle ready countenance gradually softened. What had been rigid was lax. What had been determined was lenient. He shut his eyes for several seconds, as his chest rose and fell concertedly. When he reopened them, I was met with the clearest and gentlest of gazes.

He slowly leaned in toward me and I saw it in his eyes. The look that told me I was beheld as something beautiful. I knew that look so well—and I coveted it so--because I only felt truly beautiful when it was upon me.

As he leaned in closer, I found myself being pulled toward him by that gravity that always exerted itself when we were together. As the space between us closed, I felt an urge to shut my eyes, but I couldn't make myself do it. I simply had to see him, every part of him, in that kind of proximity. It had been far too long since I'd taken in those pools of heavenly green in that immediacy.

I watched his eyes move to my mouth. I saw him lick his lips in preparation for what I knew was inevitable at that point. Just as his warm breath ghosted my skin and his body was one tiny movement from mine, Edward halted. He halted and then he blinked, as if he was adjusting his eyes from the dark to the light. The mask of his face, which had been gentle and soft, became pained and rigid again. He abruptly pulled away from me. I watched my lifeline sit up straight and distance himself from me on the couch. Then he stood up and walked his lanky frame to the other side of the room, making me feel defective and quarantined.

"You don't see it, Bella. You never have," he said frantically, raking his hand through his hair

"See what?" I muttered, almost inaudibly, not even caring at that point to conceal my tears.

"That I am not good for you. _We_ are not good for each other."

"How can you say that? I know you don't believe it."

"I don't want to believe it. But all the evidence tells me otherwise. This." He waved his hand between himself and me. "This ends in hurt everytime."

"But what if it didn't? What if it's finally our time?"

"Why would it be any different this time? We'll start strong, and then end up hurting each other." His jaw was firm. Everything about his posture was resolute.

"You almost kissed me. Don't tell me you don't feel what's between us…what will always be between us?"

"Yeah, I feel it," he answered me brusquely. "Still doesn't mean we need to be together."

"You infuriate me, Edward." I stood up and walked over to where he stood. "We belong together. My gut tells me so, and I think yours does too. Why can't you just trust that?"

"I care about you way too much to base any decision on emotion. I won't do it."

"How romantic of you."

"It's not about romance at this point. You are important. More important to me than you'll ever know. And what I see is that you are about to pass up the chance to be with a great guy, the _right _guy, who will give you the life you deserve."

"I'm well aware of what I'd be giving up. But I'm more aware of what I'd be gaining." I bridged the space between us, so that we were toe to toe. I tilted my face up toward his and found his eyes with mine.

When I reached out to touch his cheek, he flinched as if I had burned him. "Bella, please just go home, plan the wedding of your dreams, and live the life you deserve with a man worthy of you."

I grabbed his hand in mine, clinging to it in desperation. "I don't want to. _You're _the life I want."

He exhaled loudly and looked up at the ceiling. Then he backed up a step and tugged his hand away from me. Running his hand ran through his hair roughly, he pursed his lips. "You asked me a question earlier. One I never answered."

"I'm aware of that." I felt the pit overtake in my stomach. It was so much worse, so much more concentrated than the measly gnawing I'd been living with.

"So I'm going to answer it now." Slowly and deliberately his eyes focused in on mine. "I do love you, Bella. You are my family, but things have changed. Time has passed." Then his eyes moved from mine. He stared unseeingly at the wall behind me, and through tight lips he quietly spoke. "I love you, but I'm not _in_ love with you anymore."

The meaning of each word sank in alarmingly slow, but intensely so. My throat became thick, and each breath labored. I almost dropped to my knees right there, finding my legs suddenly limp, but I managed to stay upright.

I cleared my throat and scrambled internally for the right thing to say. What is the right way to respond to complete, heart wrenching rejection from the love of your life?

"I see," I croaked out, in a voice not much louder than a whisper, because it was the only voice I could find. "That changes things."

His eyes were pained, but he offered no solace or no apology. He just stood quietly above me, as if he was waiting for me to fall to pieces. I wouldn't let him see that happen. I had asked for the truth, and the truth I'd gotten. Inside I was dying, that much I was sure, but I would not let him know that. I wouldn't let him see me as something that needed rescuing once more.

Somehow I made my way back to the couch, smoothing down the front of my jeans and my shirt, as if I'd just been in a physical skirmish. I grabbed my purse, pulled it over my shoulder and gripped it tightly, thankful for a prop. Then I bent down to his coffee table and snatched my ring. I slid it onto my left ring finger, realizing that even in light of the truth, it still felt like nothing but a noose.

"I, um, appreciate your honesty, Edward," I managed, avoiding his plaintive eyes, which I could feel burning into to me.

He stepped out of my way as I made it clear I needed to get past him. Then he followed closely on my heels as I walked toward the front door.

"Bella, I…" But his voice just trailed off and he said nothing. What could he say? He had been honest with me, and I would honor my part of the deal in return. _If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don't still love me, I will walk out of here and never bother you about this again._

Stiffly, I turned to face him, avoiding his eyes. "I'm going to head out now. Thanks for your time." My words were rigid and forced. I offered him my hand in a handshake between colleagues. "I wish you and Tanya well."

The air around us was formal and unfamiliar. His declaration had immediately stomped out our energy and gravity. It was new territory for both of us.

He tentatively took my hand, grabbing it lightly, delicately so.

"Bella," he breathed out quietly.

His grip became firm and he used it to pull me into his chest. I felt my tears edging their way out, so I swallowed hard to stop the release. With his arms around me, I had one foot in heaven and one in hell.

His lips brushed my ear. "Please be happy. It's all I've ever wanted for you."

"Yeah, I think you said that already." I pulled away harshly, no longer able to handle his touch.

He opened the door for me and I headed straight to my car without looking back, humiliated and utterly heartbroken. I heard him say good-bye in a throaty voice, and then slowly close the door behind me. As I continued to walk on wobbly legs down his front path, one that had been so short on my arrival, became dreadfully long on my departure. When I was almost to my car, my ears tweaked at the sound of a loud bang from within his duplex. I presumed Edward had just employed a coping technique of days past. I'd seen him do it several times before, and I knew all too well what it sounded like for his fist to collide with a hard flat surface.

_Good. Maybe he's hurting as badly as I am._

Once in the safety of my car, I figured the tears would overtake me instantaneously. I surprised myself by having the presence of mind to dial Alice's number on my cell phone. The sobs came in full force, though, the instant I heard her comforting soprano.

"I need you." I was able to convey to her, through the barrage of tears.

"Can you drive, sweetie?"

"I-I can."

"I'll be waiting for you. You're not alone, Bells."

She didn't pepper me with questions. She didn't try to coax the story out of me over the phone. She just offered me a safe place to land, which was exactly why I wanted to stay with her that night.

Certainly, I could have headed straight back home at that point, but I needed the comfort of my dear friend. I needed the warmth of her home and the solace of her words. Best yet, I craved her familiarity with my situation. She already knew every detail, all the history, and the investment of my heart in it all, which was too great to be quantified. Alice was exactly who I needed, because she'd know exactly _what_ I needed.

I would head back to Mike and real life the next day. With a broken heart and a gnawing gut, I would make my way back home.

I had felt so unsure and unsettled on the way to Edward's that day. Who would have known it was possible to leave in worse shape? Even so, maybe what I'd just been through with Edward, the boy of my past but not the man of my future, was the elusive closure Esme had spoken of? That which she had insisted I needed so badly. If so, she should have warned me about the cold hard truth. Closure hurt far worse than what if's.

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**I'm pretty sure that didn't go down like many of you wanted it to (she says, as she ducks and hides)...I am not going to give you any spoilers. What I will say is there is more story left to tell (8 to 10 chapters I think) past AND present. **

**Thanks for reading!**

Check out my profile for chpt. 18's song.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU, and as I like to say, rated PG-13.**

**thanks to my beta, Klarsen18 who contributed a lot to this chapt!**

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**Chapt 19 takes place throughout B and E's sophomore year in college. This chapter is a bit transitional, but still very important in grand scheme of things.**

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**Chapter 19—Unexpected Plot Twist (1993-94)**

"Can you hear me?"

"Bells?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm outside on Charlie's cordless. Didn't know if you could hear me?"

"I can hear you fine. There's a bit of static, but it's not too bad. Where exactly are you?"

"Where do you think?"

"Our Tree." It was a statement, not a question.

"Sure enough." I sighed. "I'm going to talk to you here on this phone with my eyes closed. That way I can hear your voice and pretend you're sitting right beside me in your spot." _Where you should be, _I added, only silently.

"Sounds good to me. I miss you, Bells." Edward's voice had a sad lilt to it. I'm sure mine did too. Twelve months of long distance dating does that to a couple.

"I miss you too," I breathed out.

"So tell me, whatcha doing at Charlie's anyway?"

"Live-in whore invited Alice and me over for dinner."

"She has a name, Bella."

"_Sue_, the live-in whore invited us over for dinner. And before you start in, I _know_ she's not that bad. I_ know_ she's good for Charlie. I _know_ she tries hard to connect with me. But I have one word for you."

"And that would be?" I could hear Edward's smile over the phone.

"Fran. Your step mom, Fran. How would you like for me to start listing all of _her_ redeeming qualities?"

"Point taken," he conceded. "So, as your were saying, you and Alice had dinner with your dad and Sue?"

"I know this will shock you, but Alice bailed on me at the last minute."

"Let me guess, a new guy?"

"Cai, his name is Cai, and she met him at the Quad the other day. They went out for drinks tonight. It's nothing serious."

"Of course it's nothing serious. So what's his glitch?" Edward questioned me knowingly.

"He's a non-traditional student." I answered him carefully.

"Exactly how old?"

"Twenty eight."

"Seriously?"

"Dead. Per Alice, he took a few years to find himself before starting college."

"But _twenty eight_?"

"I know. I don't like it either, but it does no good for me to tell her that. You know how she is."

"That I do." He exhaled loudly, clearly exasperated by Alice's latest venture. "She needs to be careful, getting mixed up with older guys is not the wisest choice."

"You're preaching to the choir."

"All I'm saying is that she could easily get in over her head."

"If I'm not mistaken, I'd say you actually care about Alice." I jibed him.

"Of course I do," he clarified, "she my girl's best friend."

"Aww. Edward's a softy."

"Back to dinner," he interjected. I just knew if I could actually see him, he would've been rolling his eyes. "How did it go?"

I thought back to the prior forty-five minutes of my life, spent in a place I had absolutely no desire to be, and tried to be as objective as I could.

"Sue's a great cook. I ate something other than Ramen for once. Um…Charlie only consumed _two_ glasses of Jack and coke in front of me. Sue kissed all over him, leaving her signature pink crescents all over his face, _but _she never kissed me. So all in all, I'd say it was an okay night."

"Sounds nice enough."

"Oh, but there's more. Sue is redecorating. It looks like an Indian reservation threw up in the house. There's all these southwestern-looking woven throws on the chairs, she put a cactus in the living room, and the world's largest dream catcher is hanging above her and Charlie's bed. It's absolutely horrid."

"Yikes." Edward took pause for a couple of beats. "So, I'm sure seeing the house you grew up in look so different isn't easy. Are you okay with all that?"

"So you can see straight through my defense mechanism humor, huh? And over the phone even?"

"Remember, I'm sitting right next to you?" he murmured, in that velvety voice I lived to hear.

I exhaled loudly, wishing more than anything to actually have him next me so I could get lost in his eyes, his touch, and everything that made him Edward. He would've been the perfect panacea to counteract the bitterness and hurt my evening had brought out in me. But alas, he was hundreds of miles away. I would settle for his voice in my ear, and a ridiculous game of pretend-Edward-is-right-here-with-me.

"I hate the changes she's made." I admitted, feeling the ever so familiar tightening of my throat. "Everything she brings in, means something of my mom goes out. I'm sort of expecting to walk in some day and see nothing left of Renee. I don't even know what to do with that thought."

"Just take it one day at a time, Bells. When you start thinking about stuff that way it always overwhelms you."

"You're right," I shuddered out. "It's just hard not to. Sue is_ very_ hard for me to take. And Charlie _with_ Sue is even harder."

"I know she is, Little Bit, but you have to admit she's been good for Charlie."

"Yeah," I sniffed, "he thinks she hung the moon."

"Or the world's largest dream catcher, as it were," Edward quipped.

I couldn't help but laugh, yet his humor couldn't dull the ache that accompanied thoughts of my father. My relationship with Charlie had grown even more strained after I moved out of the house a year prior. Just when I didn't think there was a way to feel more disconnected, more forgotten, Charlie had shown me there was.

"He doesn't even notice me, Edward." I confessed solemnly.

"He does too. Charlie is just really bad at showing it. Always has been."

"He barely said five words to me tonight. He just sits there and broods while the live-in whore rubs his back and fetches him his booze."

"I'm so sorry, Little Bit."

"He won't even make eye contact with me. What kind of dad won't look at his own daughter?"

"A dad with a lot to be ashamed of?"

"I don't think that's it. If it were, I might actually be able to take his cold shoulder," I admitted quietly.

"You deserve so much more," Edward murmured quietly. Then he added, "I wish I could be there for you. I mean, if anything I could be a buffer between you and your dad. I've always been good at that, right?"

"Then come home and do your job already!" I scolded him jokingly.

Yet, I really meant it, and I'm pretty sure Edward knew that.

For our entire yearlong courtship, our only source of contention was the whole long distance issue. Edward had left my dorm room a year earlier that fateful day in September, and kept his promises. His feelings didn't scare him anymore, and he became the best long distance boyfriend a girl could ask for. He called, he wrote, he sent flowers. Simply put, he pursued me and let me know he was wholly devoted to me. A day did not go by in which he didn't let me know it.

As the weeks passed, my trust in Edward was slowly restored, until that terrible four months of severance became nothing but a faint memory.

I went to see him once in Colorado, getting to meet the Cullens, who I, of course, loved as much as Edward did. After spending time there, I could understand the pull of the place. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and Carlisle and Emmett had this way of making you feel like family. On top of that, witnessing Edward in his element--working the trail and helping build the family camp—was nothing short of beautiful. Everything about him almost glowed. He had definitely found his sweet spot. Seeing him like that was good for us, because it helped me tolerate the bitter pill of him being away.

Even so, I was not in favor of our arrangement becoming long term. I made my stance on the matter clear quite often. It's not like Edward didn't agree with me, he just felt obligated to stay in Colorado. Carlisle was paying him a ridiculous hourly wage, giving him a place to live, and still covering his tuition. It was almost too good to be true. With Esme ever on his heart and mind, it was a deal Edward would be crazy to refuse.

Consequently, despite _really_ liking the guy, I secretly resented Carlisle Cullen for taking the love of my life away from me. I would never admit that to another soul, but it's how I felt. At times, that resentment made its way over to Edward too. I struggled to silence the voice in my head that told me if Edward really loved me, he'd come home to me, no matter what. This was another admission that would never be spoken aloud.

"What am I going to do with you, Bella Swan?" he murmured.

"I don't know Edward Masen, but you better just watch out. Sue's nephew is a freshman at Tech. She asked me and Alice to have coffee with him so he can have a, quote unquote, broader friend base. What if he comes in and sweeps me off my feet? I'll be all, 'Edward who?'" I teased, giggling.

"Not a chance," he added, without missing a beat. "We both know Alice will see fresh meat and snag him before that could happen."

"Can't argue that," I laughed. "So what's new in the mountains?"

"School is killing me. No surprise there. I may be the biggest fool on the planet to be pre-med. All I know is I'm giving it one more semester."

"You can do it, Edward. Beneath that crazy mop of hair is a smart guy. Besides, you _have_ to do it. We have a plan, remember?"

"The one where you're my nurse someday?"

"That's the one."

"And you'll wear a very short white uniform on a daily basis?"

I could almost see his glorious crooked grin through the phone. It made my heart ache.

"Not a chance, Masen."

"I figured," he sighed. "So get this, Emmett met a girl. He's totally crazy over her. All of us guys hold up our pinkies when we see him because she so has him wrapped around her finger."

"That doesn't sound like the Emmett." I replied, picturing a larger than life guy with a heart of gold, who lived for fun and adventure. A guy way too busy chasing that fun and adventure to be tied down.

"That's just it, Bells. This Rose has Emmett reeling. I mean he's talking about not letting this one go. Doing whatever it takes to hang on to her. He's completely whipped."

"Do you like her? Are they a good match?"

"On paper, not at all. She's serious, levelheaded, a bit icy when you meet her; though she warms up to you eventually. She's pretty much his complete opposite. Yet, when you get them in the same room, they're like this perfectly well-oiled machine. They just work."

"Sounds pretty serious," I concluded.

"I think it is. Emmett Cullen has met his match." He paused for a couple of beats. "He and I are kind of pathetic really."

"What do you mean?"

"All we do anymore is sit around and talk about you and Rose, and how lucky we are. How we're never going to let you go. That we'd marry you yesterday if we could."

His words tumbled around in my head and then sunk in. Edward alluded to forever with me often, yet I just couldn't get used to it. Every time he spoke of being with me for the long haul, I'd have to catch my breath. I simply couldn't wrap my brain around it. I couldn't even imagine clearing the hurdle of our long distance situation, much less being with Edward forever---though it's what I wanted more than anything in the world.

"I'd settle for us being in the same town," I answered him honestly.

"I'm working on it, Bella. If I can work my butt off for the rest of this year, maybe I can save enough. Then with my savings, plus what mom can contribute I could manage to pay tuition at Tech. We'll just have to see."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm sorry I keep bringing it up. I just miss you. I _need _you," I admitted, feeling that need deep in my bones. My body missed his touch, his warmth, and the puzzle piece precision in which he fit with me. Our phone calls, letters and occasional visits were amazing, but they felt like appetizers. Our relationship was all appetizers and never a main course.

"I need you too, Bells. I'll be home soon for another visit, and I'm all yours. Okay?"

"Okay," I whispered.

"I love you, Little Bit. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Edward."

"Forever and a day?"

"Absolutely." I agreed, knowing I had no other option but to agree. Did a girl this in love ever really have a choice?

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Two weeks later Alice and I loaded up into her yellow VW bug with the top down. She insisted on playing _Ice, Ice Baby,_ and even more forcefully demanded that I sing the lyrics along with her—especially the line _with the ragtop down so my hair can blow._

I had learned early on to go along with Alice's whims, which were usually actually quite fun ninety nine percent of the time. The girl loosened me up in all the right ways.

We headed toward a coffee house near campus so we could meet Sue's nephew, Jacob. I found myself wondering why I agreed to do this for Sue in the first place. I abhorred the lady, and didn't feel compelled to do her any favors. Yet, there I was, giving away a perfectly good Friday afternoon to her charity case of a nephew.

"So why can't this kid make his own friends?" Alice questioned me, annoyed, looking about as thrilled as I felt.

"Beats me. All I know is that he moved here all the way from Washington to go to Tech. Sue says he doesn't know a lot of people yet. I agreed to meet the guy for some reason. A reason that I can't pin point now that I'm actually doing it."

"While dragging your best friend along." Alice aptly reminded me.

"And I thank you for that, Al." I looked over at her and smiled gratefully. "I didn't feel comfortable meeting him alone. I mean, what if he turns out to be creepy or weird? He_ is_ related to the live-in whore after all."

"This is what I think," Alice began, matter of fact. She looked over her sunglasses at me. "If he is creepy we stay twenty minutes tops, then head home to watch taped episodes of _Days_. On the other hand, if he's hot, I get dibs on him."

"Sounds fair," I sniffed. "And of course you get dibs. I have Edward."

"I have Edward." Alice mocked my girl-in-love tone.

"This Jacob kid is a year younger than us, Alice."

"So."

"That's not your usual taste is all."

"_Hot_ is my taste, Bells." She told me decidedly.

We made it to the coffee shop in record time, thanks to Alice's death-defying driving. My tiny friend had the skills and fearlessness of a Nascar driver. After grabbing our drinks, we settled into a booth facing the door. Alice, in between huge sips of her skinny double mocha with a shot of hazelnut, started in on a rant about how hot President Clinton was, and how Hillary should totally appreciate him more. Five long minutes into this rant, the door to the shop swung open with the jingle of a bell and in strolled one of the most handsome guys I had ever seen.

He stood at least six foot four, he had cropped black hair that spiked up a bit at the top, smooth brown skin, and shocking white teeth. He wore a simple blue t-shirt and faded jeans. Through both, anyone could see how fit and toned his body was. His wide russet brown eyes were unmistakably warm and friendly.

I knew this was Jacob Black--nephew of the live-in whore--only because he looked quite a bit like his aunt. He certainly didn't look that much younger than us, and he definitely didn't look creepy.

Alice was already sitting up at attention, literally licking her lips. She grabbed my leg underneath the table and squeezed hard.

"Ow!" I hiss-whispered in her ear.

I raised my hand up and waved to Jacob. Once he took notice of me, he strode over to our booth, wearing a big, yet hesitant smile.

"Bella?" His voice was as warm as that smile.

"You must be Jacob."

"I am." He nodded nervously, looking at me and then at Alice, then back at me again.

"Um, this is my best friend Alice Brandon."

He reached over and shook her hand cordially, then nodded to the booth seat on the other side of the table.

"Nice to meet you Jacob. Please join us?" Alice fixed her gaze on him. Her smile could've cracked her face and her dark eyes were nothing short of effervescent.

"Did you want to order some coffee?" I asked him, as he slid in across from us.

"Nah, I'm good. I chugged a bottle of water on the walk over."

Jacob fidgeted just a bit, moving his hands from his lap to the table and then to his lap again. He looked uncomfortable, and I felt for him. It couldn't have been easy to come meet two strangers, and to have one of them so obviously size you up like a potential prey.

"Where'd you walk from?" Alice inquired, leaning toward him across the table. Her purple tank top dipped low, and I knew the move had been calculated and executed with precision.

"Oh, I'm living at Sue's place," his brown skin reddened, and he shook his head once, looking at me pointedly, "or I mean what_ was_ her place, on 34th and Wilkins."

"You walked from there?" Alice and I exclaimed in unison.

"I walk a lot."

"What else do you do a lot?" Alice inquired not so innocently, while blatantly staring at his bicep.

After subtly elbowing her, I quickly added, "What she means is what do you do in your spare time and stuff?"

"Well, right now I'm working on rebuilding an old motorcycle. I don't walk a lot just because I want to."

"So you're completely on foot right now?"

"Yep, and it stinks."

"It does stink," I agreed. "I just got my truck this year. I was the queen of mooching rides up until a month ago."

"Bella's truck is a piece of junk, but she loves it like it's a Beamer or something." Alice giggled.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," I chided her. "Besides, once I get her tuned up a bit, she'll be as good as new."

"You ought to bring your truck by," Jacob interjected, as he sat up straighter. Then his face turned crimson, and he shrank back into the booth. "I mean I'd be happy to take a look at it or something if you want me to, that is. I'm pretty good with engines and stuff."

"That would be great actually," I agreed amiably.

"So Jacob," Alice started in, after she glanced pointedly at me and then to Jacob, "have you hit any of the hot spots around campus yet? M. Mahaneys? Palladium?"

"Nah." He blushed again. "I'm kind of a home body." He wore a sheepish, almost apologetic look.

"I am too," I added quickly. "I've done the whole party girl routine, and it's highly overrated."

"Bella's favorite pastime is pining for her long distance boyfriend. If you ask me, _that's _what's highly overrated."

I glanced wearily at Alice, wondering why she chose to include that dig. Then I figured she probably just wanted Jacob to know who was single and who wasn't.

"I've only been here for a month, and my long distance relationship is already over." Jacob shrugged. "I admire anyone that has what it takes to maintain one."

"I'm _so_ sorry, Jacob." Alice's voice was syrupy, and I could have sworn she even batted her eyelashes. "Was the relationship just not meant to be?"

"I guess not," he replied diplomatically. "She's a reservation girl. I mean, she'll be there for life. That's just not for me. I love the res and I love the people there, but I've always known I'd branch out eventually. Just like my aunt Sue did."

At first he seemed embarrassed to have shared so much information. Then his gaze settled on me and he appeared to be gauging my reaction.

I almost, just almost, chimed in about_ just_ how much Sue branched out, but I stopped myself.

"Branching out takes guts." Alice said sweetly, and then added, "I think you're rather brave actually."

She sounded sincere, but I was fairly sure that in her mind she had dramatized Jacob's departure from the reservation where he'd grown up into something fit for an dramatic epic film.

"I'm not brave. Just curious, I guess." He blushed again. This kid blushed a lot.

"Curiosity is good." I added, wanting to somehow ease his nerves.

He shot me a timid smile and then redirected his attention to Alice, who had launched into a spiel about one of her fashion merchandising classes, and how her professor looked just like an older version of Neve Campbell from _Party of Five; _a meaner, more bitter, wrinkly version.

My Alice did know how to ramble, but she was a captivating story teller--even when the story was, in and of itself, boring--so it was hard to complain. Plus, she was perfect in situations such as the one we were in, where nerves were involved and awkward silences were almost inevitable.

We ended up hanging out with Jacob Black for two hours that day. The conversation eventually became easy, largely thanks to Alice, and Jacob grew more comfortable with us. In fact, he didn't blush again the rest of that day. I took that as a good sign.

Later, he crammed his giant frame into Alice's tiny bug, after we insisted that he simply couldn't walk all the way home. We dropped him at his house, and only then did I realize exactly how far he had walked to get to our coffee date. I felt badly about having dreaded it so, considering the trouble he'd gone to in order to get to us.

As he unwound himself from the back seat, he couldn't stop thanking us for hanging out with him. His smile was wide and sincere. We made plans to bring my truck over to him the next week so, as promised, he could take a look at it.

As we drove away, Alice started in immediately. "Oh. My. Gosh. Sooo hot!"

"I guess he was," I replied indifferently.

"You _guess_? Come on Bells, he's beautiful. Which is okay for you to notice, by the way. You may have a boyfriend, but for heaven's sake, you can still look!"

I felt a smile creep its way up. "Yeah, I guess he is rather good looking."

"Now you're talking!"

"So what's your plan of attack?" I asked her wearily, thinking this boy had no idea what was about to hit him.

"Are you kidding?" she asked me, wide eyed.

"Why would I be kidding? You said on the way over that if he was hot, you got dibs, right?"

"I did say that, but Bells, that boy only has eyes for you. I am _so_ not going there. Alice Brandon is nobody's sloppy seconds!" she declared, in all seriousness.

"What?" I couldn't have been more shocked.

"You are so naïve in these matters, my friend. That boy stared at you like a love sick puppy dog all afternoon."

"He most certainly did not!"

"Oh, Bella. My sweet unassuming, Bella."

"Please don't talk down to me, Alice."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Then she pursed her pink lips and narrowed her eyes. "Let's just say you've never known the effect you have on people. All I'm saying is that you don't get how pretty you are. "

Her words took me off guard. Edward often said similar things to me. All both of them ever succeeded in doing, was turning my face fire-engine red, and making me very uncomfortable.

"Jacob Black was just glad to make some friends," I clarified. "Sounds like he's been lonely. That's _all_ you saw, Alice…appreciation for new friends."

"Fine, Bells, call it what you will," she replied in a very musical tone. "Time will tell."

I felt completely irritated with her and her accusations, so I cranked up the stereo, and let what happened to be next on her mix--_Baby Got Back--_ end that particular conversation.

* * *

The next week I found myself alone in my truck headed toward Jacob and what used to be live-in whore's house. Alice had ever so conveniently backed out on me. I considered not going myself, but I decided to go on without her, thinking canceling would be rather rude. Besides, my truck really did need some attention, and I couldn't afford to pay someone to give it to her.

I felt a bit apprehensive about going alone, simply because I wasn't altogether certain that Alice's observations _didn't _hold any water. I didn't want to lead the guy on in any way. More importantly, I didn't want to do anything that would upset Edward—which is why I didn't tell him a thing about my plans to go see Jacob Black.

The modest two bedroom house had a rundown stand-alone garage behind it that, even in it's disrepair, seemed tailor made for a car buff like Jacob. He had all his tools hanging on the slat board walls, a bit haphazardly, yet he knew exactly where everything was when he needed it. He knew his way around under a hood of a car, that was for sure. As he worked on my truck he carried himself with such confidence. He wasn't that anxious, blushing kid I'd met at the coffee shop just days before.

Jacob worked diligently, while maintaining easy conversation with me. I couldn't help but notice the guy was sweating bullets, but he remained in jeans and his t-shirt. I thought about suggesting he take his shirt off, but I didn't want to sound perverted. So, I let him slave away on my truck in a stifling hot garage, while sweating off ten pounds of water weight.

"I feel kind of bad that you're working so hard." I commented, as I sat perched on an oversized toolbox, sipping iced tea, no less.

"Don't give it a second thought. I totally love working on cars."

"Looks to me like you're pretty good at it too."

"It's just always made sense to me." He shrugged. "So many things in life don't make sense, but cars always do."

"Then, why college, Jacob? Why not just open a repair shop and do what you love?"

"That would be great, but I want to take it a step farther. I pretty much love figuring out how _anything_ works, not just cars and motorcycles. So mechanical engineering seemed like a good fit."

"Sounds hard to me."

"I think nursing sounds hard, Bella."

"Not as hard as Mechanical Engineering, I'm pretty sure. Yes, it requires lots of studying. But I really like it. It's a good fit for me too, I guess."

"I_ totally_ get a Florence Nightingale vibe from you come to think of it." His face split into a wide smile.

"Exactly." I played along.

"So, Bella, can I ask you something personal and potentially uncomfortable?"

_Crap_, I thought to myself. Maybe Alice had been right about the whole puppy dog thing. I sort of mentally braced myself for whatever he might have to say. "Sure, I think?"

"It's just that I was wondering how you feel about my aunt shacking up with your dad? I mean, you've gotta kind of hate it, right?"

My eyes widened for just a beat. I hadn't seen that coming, yet it was kind of preferable to what I'd expected him to bring up.

"I don't love it," I answered him carefully.

"I don't blame you. After my mom died and before my dad's accident, he brought a lot of women home. I was only thirteen and it made me so uncomfortable. He never once asked me how I felt about it. It made me sort of lose respect for him, if I'm being honest."

Jacob's candor really resonated with me, which was why I told him more than I would've ever planned to. "Well, if I'm being honest, it hurts me a lot too. My mom would not have approved of my dad's choices in the slightest. I don't approve either. No offense against your aunt or anything, but I don't respect what they're doing."

"No offense taken," he said earnestly, his big brown eyes not wavering from mine. "Sue is a good woman. She's just a bit rough around the edges. Her first husband hit her, her second cheated on her with anyone with a pulse. She says she'll never marry again. It may be her and not your dad that has chosen their living arrangements."

"Hmm." I answered him.

Jacob leaned back in under the hood, and I found myself quietly ruminating his disclosure. I had never given much thought to Sue as a person. I never considered what her life looked like prior to moving in with my dad. Nor did I care to consider _why _she made the choices she made. To me, she was just a gross woman he'd met at a gross bar, who somehow broke through my dad's tough exterior---something I myself couldn't manage to do.

"You got quiet, Bella. Did my question make you mad?"

I looked up and found that his big russet eyes were troubled.

"No, Jacob, I'm not mad," I assured him quickly. "I was just thinking about Sue and my dad. It's just not, um…easy for me."

"I told you my question had the potential to be uncomfortable. I'm a guy who delivers, right?" He let out a forced laugh.

"So why did you ask it then?"

"Well, I'd like to be your friend. I figured we'd have to address the big pink elephant in the room at some point, right? No time like the present."

"I guess you're right." I smiled in agreement, liking this guy more by the minute.

"And so your boyfriend…Edward, that's his name?" Jacob had stopped tinkering with my truck and was now wiping his hands on a very greasy, black tinged rag.

"That's it."

"I know you guys are long distance. Where is he anyway?"

"He's in Colorado, near Fort Collins. He works at a trail up there and goes to school."

"How did you meet him anyway?"

"I've known him since I was born. Literally. He's the boy next door."

"No way!" Jacob exclaimed, grinning widely.

"It's the truth." I smiled, picturing my sweet Edward at various stages of our lives.

"How long will you guys have to be apart?"

"I'm not sure," I sighed wistfully.

"So there's no plan for when he's coming home to stay?"

"Not yet," I breathed out, feeling the weight of that truth all over me.

"Well, all I know is that really sucks," Jacob commented, wide-eyed. "Like totally, completely, and thoroughly sucks."

Taken off guard, I giggled, while realizing his levity had diffused my sadness in mere seconds. "It _does_ suck, Jake! I _hate_ it, as a matter of fact."

"Well, if you hate it, let's take it out on something." He shrugged one shoulder in nonchalance.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you need to get your aggression out, Bella."

"Okay?"

"Come on. I promise this will feel good." He grabbed my hand and hoisted me up from the toolbox, then walked ahead of me, gathering empty Coke cans and glass bottles and what looked to be a shot gun.

"I don't know, Jake," I said skeptically, eyeing the gun.

"It's just a bb gun, silly," he said with a wide smile. "And by the way, I like the whole _Jake_ thing. My friends back home call me that. It's nice to hear it here for once."

"Then Jake it is."

We shot bottles and cans with his bb gun in the backyard for the next thirty minutes. Jake was right. It felt good, really good, to take my frustration out on something. Then he taught me how to whittle wood with a pocketknife, something I'd never even come close to attempting at any time in my 19 years. He expertly carved a wolf, and I carved, well, a rectangle.

When it came time for me to leave so I could make it to my shift at work on time, I found myself offering Jake a ride to class the next day. It simply seemed like the right thing to do. He gratefully accepted, telling me it would be nice to not have to wake up two hours early just so he could walk to the bus stop and make the right connections to campus.

On my drive to Twilight, I realized my face actually hurt from smiling so much. I decided that, from what i could tell, that was just the effect Jake Black had on a room—the effect he had on me.

I took him to school the next day, and everyday after that for the next two weeks, right up until his motorcycle was up and running.

Before I knew it, an unlikely and unexpected friendship had bloomed between me and the nephew of my dad's live-in whore. One couldn't have scripted a more outlandish plot twist for me, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Jake was all warmth and smiles and fun. I found that he was the perfect antidote to my daily struggle with Edward being gone. Jake understood how sad I was, and he refused to let me wallow in it. He pushed me to try new things and to step outside of my cautious bent, which was a nice change.

Alice still insisted Jake harbored a secret crush on me, but I just didn't see it. I was like Jake's cool big sister, and he was my crazy-fun little brother. Nothing more, nothing less.

All the same, it still took me a good three weeks to tell Edward about my new friendship. I'm not sure why I was so slow to do so. I guess the unconventional nature of it contributed to my trepidation. If Edward told me he was spending a lot of time with a girl, who was just a friend, I would likely go ballistic. I all but expected the same reaction from him.

Luckily, when I finally broached the subject, he didn't go ballistic at all. Edward certainly _thoroughly_ quizzed me about the exact nature of the relationship. He wanted to know all about "this" Jacob Black. I readily and honestly supplied what answers I knew--only leaving out something Edward didn't forthrightly ask me about--Jake's physical appearance. My choice to omit that information bothered me a little, but at the same time I didn't want Edward to worry for no reason.

Even though Edward took the news of my new friendship quite maturely, I could tell by the tone of his voice he was understandably leery. I got see that leeriness first hand when he finally came home for a visit, and I insisted he take out an hour of our time together to meet Jake. I was certain any misgivings Edward harbored would be alleviated if he could only meet my friend.

When they finally came to face to face, Edward did the requisite "I'm sizing you up" thing. While Jake, unassuming as ever, made incessant small talk and grinned from ear to ear. I watched Edward's somewhat icy veneer melt by the minute, and I could almost see the instant he decided Jake was—as Edward deemed him—a good kid.

As the months rolled by, it was hard for me to picture what my college life had been like without Jake. It was as if he had always been my friend, and always a part of my daily life. I think Alice felt much the same way, as Jake had become a frequent fixture in our new apartment.

We were hanging out in the living room after class one afternoon, watching Alice flitter around. With much unpacking left to do after our move, she was constantly hanging pictures, and setting out knickknacks, in her spare time--all in the name of Feng Shui, her latest obsession.

"I think this apartment looks like the set of _Good Times_," Jake said, as he crammed his mouth to the brim with Funyons. Jake was a constant grazer and our kitchen cupboards and fridge were thoroughly scoured anytime he visited.

"It _so_ does not." Alice countered ferociously.

"Yeah," he insisted, "it does."

"How can you say that?"

"I just call it like I see it, little Alice." He winked at her with a smug grin, and at once her dark eyes narrowed.

"I'm gonna slap you, Jacob Black," she warned him, bowing up her little body to his giant one.

"Dy-no-mite!" Jake did his best Jimmy Walker impression. I recognized his mischievous grin. He loved playfully goading Alice, and had become masterful at it.

Alice just smirked and shook her head, while she thumped him on the nose. Then she went about her business, cussing him--only teasingly--under her breath.

In the meantime, our phone rang, and Jake reached over and snatched it. "Bella and Alice's place, otherwise known as the set of _Good Times_. Jake speaking."

Alice's head popped up from what she was doing, and she grandly shot him her middle finger, while sticking out her tongue. He returned the gesture with a grin, as he paused and listened to whoever was on the line. Nodding his head, he said, "Sure, Edward." Then he handed me the phone, and mouthed, _Catch you later. Gotta go_.

I gave Jake a quick wave good-bye, then grabbed the phone and scurried to my room.

"Hey, you." I said, as my heart thumped loudly. I was excited and desperate to hear Edward's perfect, tender voice.

Yet, instead, I was met with a coarse, "What's _he_ doing answering your phone?"

"Nice to talk to you too, Edward."

"Sorry," he muttered through an exhale.

"That's okay. Why are you bothered that Jake answered our phone?"

"I don't know," he paused, "he seems a bit _comfortable, _doesn't he?_"_

"He is comfortable. He's with Alice and me a lot. You know that, Edward."

"I'm quite aware." His voice was uncharacteristically sharp.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"I'm a big boy, Bella. I can handle it."

"It doesn't seem like you can. Not right now, anyway."

"I'm handling it," he insisted, shortly.

"Yeah, by giving me the third degree about who answers my phone!"

"It's weird for him to answer your phone. That's all I'm saying."

"I wouldn't have let him if I knew it bothered you so much, Edward."

"It doesn't bother me," he maintained.

"It _so_ bothers you, and I don't understand why. You've known Jake was my friend for a while now, and you've never said anything about it. And when you met him last time you were home, you said you actually liked the guy. So what gives?"

I heard him breathe in and out loudly. "I did…I do like him. But let's face it, it's not like I _could _say anything about it if I were uncomfortable with it. If I told you _not _to be friends with the guy, it would make me some possessive jerk or something."

"Is that what you want, though? Do you want me to stop being friends with him?" I felt my heart begin pounding in my chest and my ears burned hot.

Edward and I simply didn't fight much as a rule, but disagreements were cropping up more and more, and it killed me. I couldn't see his face, I couldn't read his body language. Over-the-phone fights unsettled me deeply.

"No, I'm not asking you to do that, Bella."

"I know you're not _asking_ me to do that. But you _want_ me to do that, don't you?"

"Bella, I wouldn't have you end your friendship with Jacob. I know he is good to you and Alice, but you have to understand how I feel. He's always over there. He's always with you."

"And ninety-nine percent of the time, it's me, him _and Alice_."

That bit of truth didn't seem to appease Edward.

"He knows way more about your everyday life than me, Bells, and I'm your boyfriend!"

"That's not true and you know it."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't make it any easier. When your girlfriend's close friend is a guy--who isn't gay--it's just…it's just not ideal. That's all I'm saying."

"I know it's not_ ideal_, Edward," I snapped back, feeling indignant. "But what's also not ideal is you being in Colorado and having no immediate plans of coming home. _That's_ what's not ideal!"

"So now we're going to argue about that again?" His voice was on the rise.

"How can we not?" I asked him, incredulous. "If you were here, you'd be friends with Jake too, then we wouldn't be having this asinine conversation in the first place."

"So I'm to blame? Let me guess. Me, the trail, and the Cullens are to blame for everything, right?" His tone was terse.

_Here we go again._ I felt tears swim in my eyes and my throat became thick. I found myself unable to respond, weighed down by the same argument, three thousandth verse.

"Bella, answer me," he demanded.

I cleared my throat and sniffled.

"Please talk to me."

"I can't, okay?" I choked out.

I heard a loud noise on his end, as if he banged or hit something. Knowing Edward, he probably did. "Dammit," he muttered, "I didn't mean to make ya cry, Bells."

I sniffled again and wiped my sieve of a nose with my sleeve. "I'm fine." I lied.

"You are not. I can hear it in your voice. I can hear you crying."

"I _will _be fine." I rephrased.

I heard a long, loud exhalation over the line. "I didn't call to argue with you, Little Bit. Sometimes things just get under my skin. It's killing me to not be with you."

"Same here," I managed.

"Can we please just start this conversation over? Since I woke up this morning, I have been counting the minutes until I could talk to you. This is not how I wanted it to be."

"Me either, Edward."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Me too."

"Can you forgive me?"

"What do you think?"

"I was totally out of line, Bells."

"And _I_ need to be more understanding."

"I can't believe I made you cry. I'm such a jerk!"

"It's okay, Edward. We're both stressed. You know I cry at the drop of a hat when I'm stressed."

"That I do. Even so, I was being harsh."

"It's okay. Let's just move forward, okay?"

"God, I love you," he breathed out in that velvety voice I'd been waiting to hear all day.

"I love you too."

We continued talking for another half hour, but it felt stilted, as if the real issues were lurking all around us and we just chose to tip toe around them and pretend they weren't. It seemed every time we talked, those issues took over more and more. After that day, the "new" issue of Jake was only added to the list.

Being apart was slowly getting harder for Edward and me. Each day we navigated the long distance thing, it became more difficult to stomach. Even though we both gave our entire hearts and souls to it, tensions grew with each passing day.

When I got off the phone with Edward that night I let myself have good, snotty, slobbery cry. I cried because I wanted my Edward, I cried because I was frustrated, and I cried because arguing with him over the same old things was wearing me thin. I followed my sob session up with a long, hot bath. Throughout which I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. I knew deep in my bones that something had to give between Edward and I. Something had to change. I just wasn't sure what that might look like.

We'd made it work, against the odds, for almost 20 months. We'd committed to one another, not letting something like miles hinder our connection. We worked on communicating over the phone--something that didn't come naturally to a twenty year old guy--and we'd all but perfected the art of a good old-fashioned love letter. Yet, somehow, despite our efforts, it just wasn't enough anymore. The other shoe just had to drop, and all I could do was idly sit by and watch a slow motion train wreck happen before my eyes.

* * *

**I know not everyone likes Jacob's presence in FF. This is simply the story in my head and how I see it playing out. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.

**So I am super thrilled..._Our Tre_e hit 200 (and beyond) reviews after the last chapter. I know that's not all that matters, but I will say it brings a smile to this fan fic-ers face!!! Thanks for reading, reviewing and being a part of my little story!**

**And as always, props to my SUPER beta, klarsen18.**

**Check out my profile page for a link to a song for this chapter, as well as a link to a blog I set up with the visuals for Our Tree.**

* * *

E and B are in their junior year of college...

* * *

**Chapter 20-- The Chase (1995)**

My second trip to Colorado and Grace Trail was amazing. Days one and two were all about Edward and me, in seclusion, literally devouring everything about each other. On days three, four and five, we branched out and spent time with those Edward had come to call family during his time at Grace.

Of course, this led me to fall even more in love with Emmett and Carlisle Cullen. Carlisle was sage and steady, and there was no mystery as to why Edward or I were drawn to that. Emmett was pure energy, contagious in the best possible way. He felt like the cool big brother I never had—the kind you'd hero-worship as a kid. Surprisingly enough, I became quite fond of Rose, as well. Just as Edward had explained to me, she was a bit cool upon first impressions, but I came to understand that chilly veneer was ultimately caution and discernment. Rose was simply very calculated about who she let in. She carefully sized up a situation or a person before she let her guard down. I could only wonder if this beautiful creature, whose crystal blue eyes carried just a hint of pain, had been hurt somehow in the past.

On the fourth day of my visit she and I were forced to spend several hours together as the guys repaired a fence that had blown down. I was a nervous wreck at first, because if Rose was anything, she was intimidating. I'd never seen anyone, in the flesh, so naturally beautiful. She was pretty in a classic kind of way, unforced and uncontrived. With just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara, she looked like a million bucks. I found myself staring at her a lot--her cheekbones that could cut glass, poreless skin, and silky blonde hair--and I could only imagine how creepy that must have been for her. Then again, someone that looked like that was probably used to it.

Rose and I weren't at ease with another at all in the absence of the guys--especially Emmett, who was a walking, talking social lubricant. As she and I flipped through magazines in Carlisle's living room, the air felt a bit tense, as we searched for things to talk about. There was stilted, polite small talk here and there, but mostly just silence--only interrupted by the sounds of crinkly magazines.

I saw her check her watch several times, and I had done the same, mentally calculating how long it might take Edward and Emmett to repair that fence. I just felt awkward and I'm sure Rose did too.

Then something happened that changed everything. All it took was Rose turning the page of her _People_ to a particular advertisement. At the exact same time, in the exact same way, we both had the exact same response to this ad…high pitched, unabashed squealing. One picture of Agent Fox Mulder, and two girls—strangers forced to share an afternoon--squealed in unison. As a result of that squeal, the air instantly became light and the tension was just gone . Our love for all things _X Files—_particularly one David Duchovney_-- _that showed itself in outright teenage girlish behavior is what did the trick. Under these unusual circumstances a friendship was born.

This is how I found myself in Rose's cherry red Mustang on the day of my departure from Colorado. The guys were heading out to lead a group of high profile clients on a guided hike. Rose had immediately volunteered to drive me to the airport, in Edward's stead. Certainly, I would've preferred my boyfriend drive me there, but I found a great deal of comfort knowing Rose was taking me.

Saying goodbye and leaving my beloved, ripped my heart out. I felt empty and hollow, despite the perfect five days I'd spent with Edward. My entire body trembled with the urge to sob, and I was just barely keeping it together. Rose's solid, confident presence was a good thing, in light of that.

"So I must say you surprised me, Bella." Rose's voice cut into my self-pitying thoughts.

"How so?"

"Edward moons over you constantly. It sort of drives us all insane," she answered me bluntly. "I was fully prepared to hate you, if I being perfectly honest."

"Which you always are."

"You're a quick learner." Her lips curved up in amusement. "But seriously, I really like you, Bella. I may just get why Edward moons so much."

"Thanks…I think."

"You're good for him. You guys just work," she added, as she absentmindedly thumped the steering wheel with her thumb.

"He says the same thing about you and Emmett."

"Exactly _how_ Emmett and I work is a mystery, but we do all the same."

I glanced at her ring finger on the left hand, admiring her simple princess cut diamond. "I'm so happy for you guys. Rose Cullen has a nice ring to it."

"It does, doesn't it?" She glanced at me over her Prada sunglasses, which were indeed knock offs, just as was her Louis Vuitton purse. Rose was extremely practical, yet when a girl who could easily pass as model wears knock offs, no one is the wiser.

"It makes me wonder," I added cautiously.

"About what?"

"I wonder where Edward and I would be if we weren't living apart."

"Like, would you be engaged too?"

"Yeah." I admitted.

"Maybe you would be," Rose shrugged, "but you have to remember Emmett graduates in May and I have one semester left. The next natural step for us is the tie the knot."

"I suppose so. But Edward and I _never_ take the next natural steps. It feels like our entire relationship is strictly in survival mode all the time, and nothing more. We're never moving forward."

"It must be hard," Rose commented softly.

"It's so hard," I whispered. "This part right now is maybe even the hardest."

"Which part exactly?"

"The part where I've been with him. He's held me, touched me. I've had time to re-memorize the exact shade of green in his eyes, and the line of his jaw. But then I just have to turn around and leave again, and settle for phone calls and letters." My eyes swam with tears, which I promptly brushed away with my shirtsleeves.

Embarrassed, I turned and pretended to look out the window. Once I gained some composure, I cleared my throat heartily and continued, "I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to get all girly-emotional on you."

"Don't be silly, Bella. I can't imagine being away from Em. I don't know how you and Edward manage really."

"I don't manage so well lately," I sniffled. "We're at the two and half year mark, and instead of it becoming routine, it's getting harder. I'm not sure why."

"Because you're ready to be with your man!" Rose exclaimed.

"You have no idea how ready I am."

"I may understand better than you think."

"Oh?"

"I dated someone long distance for a year actually. His name was Royce, and the whole ordeal just about killed me." Rose's jaw became firm, and her posture rigid. "It's a long sordid story," she continued through tight lips, "and the relationship was doomed for so many other reasons, but all that to say, I get what it feels like to long for someone. Sometimes it feels like it will swallow you whole, right?"

"That's a good way of putting it," I whispered, feeling exactly swallowed whole at that very moment.

"Can I be completely honest with you about something, Rose?" I hedged, finding myself increasingly drawn to this girl, who was so much more than just a pretty face.

She looked over at me. As her clear blue eyes scanned my face, I could see her sizing me up—something I'd watched her do all week. "Of course you can, Bella."

With that, she glanced in the rearview mirror, quickly pulled the wheel to the right and we eased onto the shoulder of the road. She put the car in park, pulled her shades up on top of her head, and focused her eyes intently on mine. "Spill it."

My face reddened under her attention, but I swallowed hard and sat up straighter. "You didn't have to pull over."

"We have plenty of time to get you to your flight. I can see it all over your face, Bella. You need to talk and you need my undivided attention." Her tone was completely matter of fact.

I nodded my head, as I took in the insistence of her gaze. "It's just that I miss Edward, I do, and of course that makes it hard. But there's more to it."

"Okay?"

"It's just that I can't shake the feeling that he isn't…isn't choosing me."

"In what way? Because the Edward I know is head over heels for you and beyond the shadow of a doubt, has chosen you."

"You're right." I nodded, staring at my hands.

"But?" she gently prodded.

"But I feel that for him to _really _chose me, would be for him to come home to me," I blurted out.

"I see." Rose's words were quiet.

"I mean, I get the whole practicality of him staying put and receiving Carlisle's help. I understand that Edward feels a huge obligation to his mother and helping her as much as he can. But there's a part of me that believes he should throw caution to the wind and come to me. That _nothing_ should matter above being with me."

I could barely believe I'd said all that out loud. I had never uttered those words to another soul. They were words that made me feel selfish and vile, yet I'd just vomited them all over someone that was a stranger only two days prior. "You're the first person I've ever said that to, Rose." I told her weakly.

"Then thank you for trusting me." Her eyes never wavered from mine. "It's in the vault, by the way."

"The vault?"

"I won't be repeating what you've said. Not even to Em," she explained. "You have my word."

"Thank you so much. I really don't have anyone to talk to about things like this."

"What about your roommate?"

"She's my closest friend, but she and Edward kind of fight like cats and dogs. I'm afraid if I told her how I felt, she'd only get me all spun up. And then there's Jake, and it wouldn't be right to talk about Edward like that with him."

"Definitely not."

"So it feels good, like really good to finally get that off my chest," I breathed out.

"You needed to, Bella," she said with a nod. "The way you feel," she began slowly, "part of it is a little romantic. I mean the whole throw caution to the wind stuff…that happens in movies and books. Maybe real life looks different?"

"You're probably right." I lowered my eyes, feeling foolish.

"But," she interjected forcefully, "I think you have every right to want that."

I immediately lifted my gaze and found her eyes. In them I found understanding.

"I mean, you waited years for the guy to return your affection, you finally got him, only to have him live hundreds of miles away. It's like a sick, ironic joke or something!"

"Exactly," I sighed, feeling as though Rose had somehow opened my head and climbed inside.

"So, no, I can't blame you for wanting the fairy tale. For wanting Edward to sweep in and tell you nothing else matters but being with you everyday, all the time."

My lips twitched up into a grateful smile. It felt amazing to be understood.

"But I know Edward, Bella. He talks to me and Emmett a lot about this stuff." Rose's expression turned serious. "He feels trapped in a way. To turn away from Carlisle's good will would be impossible in Edward's mind. He couldn't do it to Esme, because it would cause her to suffer in the long run."

"Then why doesn't it matter that I'm suffering?" I whispered.

"Because you're strong. He believes you and he together are strong enough. I'm not sure he believes the same of his mother. As you well know, he is fiercely protective of her, and he's spent his life watching her take so many blows…watching her work herself to the bone. Through Carlisle and Grace, Edward's been given a way to protect her from that. I mean, to go through college without spending a dime…whose ever heard of anything like that?"

"I know you're right, Rose. I know all this, in theory anyway." Then I added wearily, "But try telling that to my heart."

"Don't you know?"

I creased my brow in question.

"The farthest distance in the whole world is between our head and our heart."

"I believe it," I replied quietly, feeling my eyes well with a whole new wave of tears.

Rose grabbed her purse and pulled out an old gum wrapper and a pen. She pulled the lid off the pen with her teeth, and scribbled on the wrapper.

Handing it to me, she said, "This is my home number, Bella. I want you to feel free to call me _anytime _to talk."

As I took it from her, my tears jumped out of my eyes and trailed my cheeks. "Really?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, Rose. It means a lot."

"Aw, it's nothing." I saw a hint of red color her cheeks. Had I not been so sad, I might have laughed that I actually made steely, confident Rose blush.

"Besides," she added, with a touch of a smile tugging at her lips, "it goes both ways."

"How so?"

"You can talk to me about Edward, and I get to talk to you about the all important differences between periwinkle and violet, regular icing verses fondant, and whether I should go with a white dress or a candlelight one."

"Wedding planning."

"Yep, and my mother and I may just kill each other before its all said and done. I need _you_, Bella, for a third tie-breaking opinion, not to mention free therapy."

"It's a deal." I grinned.

She glanced at her watch and grabbed her sunglasses from her head, placing them back where they belonged. "We better get headed that way, Bella, or you'll miss your flight. You gonna be okay?"

I simply nodded my head, and gave her a brave smile.

"Liar," she said with a straight face, as she pulled back onto the highway. "And you're awful at it, by the way."

"So I've been told."

She got me to my flight on time, and thanks to Rose, I felt a little less burdened as I loaded the plane. Nothing had changed in my circumstances. She hadn't helped me figure anything out, really. Yet I felt heard and understood, and better yet, not judged. All three went a long way.

* * *

I came home to an empty apartment, which was no big surprise. Alice kept a busy schedule, which she purposely made even busier in my absence. This is because she had absolutely no use for being home when I wasn't. Quiet and solitude simply weren't her gig.

I flipped on the lights in the foyer and stopped dead in my tracks. Before me was a giant bulletin board, probably 3 feet tall and 5 feet long, covered in pictures-- pictures torn from magazines, mixed in photographs Alice had taken on her 35 millimeter.

One thing was sure, Alice had been busy with this latest creative endeavor while I was gone, and it was stunning. Colors and textures danced together whimsically. I saw pictures of her and me through the years, and there were plenty of Edward too. Jake even made the mix a few times. Words like_ free_, _dance, live, _and_ hope_, written in her elegant script, were placed haphazardly amongst the pictures. It was also speckled with clipped magazine photos of her favorite things: Rold Gold pretzels, John Travolta--_Pulp Fiction_ style, Maybelline Shine Free Makeup, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, concho belts, Coco Chanel perfume, huge sterling silver cross earrings, wind shorts, Carol and Doctor Ross from _E.R.,_ and Forrest Gump.

This creation was crazy and nonsensical and amazing and all Alice. She'd fashioned this piece of art, likely on a whim, and she probably had no idea just how breathtaking it was.

Suddenly I missed my Alice terribly. Having gleaned so much from a very steady and calculated Rose, I had almost mentally disparaged Alice for being pretty much Rose's exact opposite. Yet as I took in the bright display in front of me, I immediately remembered how much Alice meant to me. That it was exactly her whimsy and flightiness that made her my perfect match.

Deciding to track her down right then, I dropped my bags where I was, and headed to the kitchen to find our phone. Alice was one of the few people I knew that actually owned a cell phone, so I figured one way or the other I could get a hold of her.

The apartment was still quite dim, only illuminated by lamplight. On my way to the kitchen, my foot hit something thick and hard and I clumsily stumbled a bit before self-correcting.

"Crap!" I hissed to no one in particular, as I rubbed my throbbing loafer-clad foot.

I lowered myself to the ground and located that which had tripped me. There sat my gigantic Pharmacology textbook, definitely thick enough and hard enough to trip a girl. I hoisted it onto my lap, only then noticing a piece of notebook paper taped to the top of it. In writing that was unmistakably Jake's, it said:

_You forgot this at my house before you left town. Knew you'd worry about it when you realized it was missing, so I dropped it off with Alice. Hope your trip was awesome._

_Catch __you__ later, Bella…_

_Jake_

Something about his note--his meaningless utilitarian note--struck me, hit me square between my eyes and straight in the heart. My eyes pricked with instant tears. Through blurry eyes, my gaze fixated on Jake's closing words, _catch __you__ later. _

It was the strangest of moments, an epiphany of sorts, brought on by the most unlikely of things…three little words_. _Three little words that carried a lot of weight and for some reason at that point in time, gave me ultimate clarity.

_Catch __you__ later._

It was then--in a quiet apartment, following a near perfect

five days with Edward--that I realized Jacob Black was the only person in my life who I didn't feel like I had to chase. I spent my days, my entire mental energy, chasing after a father who didn't care about me or notice me, a boyfriend who wouldn't come home to me, and a best friend who always ran toward trouble and wouldn't listen to me.

I spent my life continuously chasing—ever in pursuit. In that moment as I gripped Jake's note with trembling fingers, I understood that I had come to the end of myself. I was twenty years old and utterly exhausted, because my life was a constant chase.

I sat on the floor--with my book and the note on my lap, and a vibrant bulletin board above me—paralyzed by a truth I didn't want to face. I felt everything and nothing all at the same time, and all I could do was stare unseeingly ahead of me. I was overcome with this eerie vacant feeling…one I'd become well acquainted with the summer my mother died.

_So tired of the chase. So tired of the chase. So tired of the chase_.

My mind replayed this over and over like a broken record. As much as I didn't want it to be true, my entire being groaned it in words unspoken.

I don't know how long I sat there like that, because time wasn't a thought. Alice eventually came home and found me glued to my spot. As her dark eyes took me in, they were panicked, as was her voice.

"Bells, sweetie, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, Alice, nothing."

"Did, um, something happen in Colorado?"

I bit my lip and shook my head no.

"Okay?" She slid down the wall next to us, and then positioned herself in front of me. Her long broomstick skirt bellowed around her like a tuffet. "You don't look so good. You're kind of scaring me here, Bella. Your eyes are really puffy and like, glazed over or something. And you skin is really pale."

"I love your collage, Alice." I murmured, not really meaning to ignore her.

"I'm glad you do," she said calmly, glancing up at it briefly. Then her eyes honed in on me like laser lights. "Do you think you could maybe tell me what's going on, Bells? Like why you are sitting here in the dark by yourself like this?"

I exhaled loudly and just shook my head. "Things have to change, Al. That's all."

"Like what, sweetie? What has to change?" Her soprano voice was gentle, as if she was reading me a bedtime story. Even though I couldn't really show it, I appreciated her kid gloves.

"I…I don't think I can do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"I can't take the distance anymore."

"So this is about Edward."

I nodded my head.

"Did you guys fight in Colorado, Bella?"

"No. Not at all."

"Then where did this come from?"

"I just hit a wall. I'm...I'm done."

"Okay," Alice nodded, blinking rapidly. "Have you told Edward how you're feeling?"

"Not exactly. I'm pretty sure I've hinted at it pretty strongly."

"Well, we both know the guy is clueless sometimes," she started in, using her usual "stupid Edward" tone, but then she stopped herself. "He's typical-boy clueless sometimes. You need to have a heart to heart with him, Bells. Tell him exactly what you're feeling."

"You hate him. You've never approved of us." I said flatly, but not unkindly. "I figured you'd be ecstatic to know there is trouble in paradise."

"Oh, Bella, surely you know me better than that! Edward and I have had our moments, but you know I love the guy in my own way. And as for you two as a couple, how could I not support something so important to you?"

"I'm sorry." I looked down, ashamed.

"Don't be." She leaned toward me and grabbed my hands tightly. "Look at me, Bella."

I moved my eyes to hers, but only at a snails pace.

"You're going to be okay," she said definitively. "No matter what, you _will_ be okay. You know that, right?"

"I'm just so tired," I admitted, feeling a weariness deep in my bones that had nothing to do with lack of sleep. "I don't know anything right now."

"Well, I do. And I'm telling you that you will be okay. You're just worn out, sweetie. You need a bath, a glass of wine, a good night sleep. Then we can sit down tomorrow and figure this out."

"That's just it, Alice. I already have it figured out. I've had it figured out for a while but I've been too scared to see it. I still don't want to see it, but it's staring me right in the face."

"What is?"

"What I have to do."

"And that is?"

"If Edward won't come home, I need to break it off with him." My voice cracked with emotion. Even saying it wrenched me from the inside out.

Alice's eyes became saucers and she shook her head briskly. "This is _Edward _we're talking about. The love of your life, Bella."

"But being apart is _killing_ me." My voice was shaky, unsteady. "If I let him choose that damn trail over me one more time, I don't know if I can take it."

"I know it's hard sweetie, but you've pressed on for two and a half years already."

"But I don't think I have it in me to do it anymore."

"And there's no plan…no idea of when you guys can finally be together again?" Alice clarified, though she well knew the answer.

"Not even on the radar. At this rate, it will be at least two more years." I moaned, placing my head in my hands.

"Oh, Bells." Alice cooed. "I know you're down. I know it sucks, but don't you think there's a way to make it better? To make it bearable somehow?"

"Yeah, there is." I looked up and found her eyes, all watery with worry. "He could come home."

"Other than that, sweetie," she answered me in a whisper.

"I'm out of ideas. I see no other way. Either he comes home, or we take a break."

"Bella, do you think you're being a bit rash?"

Had I been in a different state of mind I would've examined the irony of Alice, queen of all reckless, thoughtless behavior, calling me rash.

"It probably seems rash, but you have no idea how long I've been dealing with this. _Struggling_ through it."

"You're right. I don't know. Only you know, Bella." She pulled me into her tiny arms and whispered in my ear. "All I'm asking is that you sleep on this. Think it through. Make sure you feel the same in the light of day."

"I know," I murmured, settling into her hug. I noticed that night that her pint sized embrace felt much bigger and more all encompassing than it really was.

"Since when did you become so mature and rational," I sighed into her shoulder.

"Since my best friend in the world taught me exactly what mature and rational looks like."

I pulled away from her and found her eyes. I could sense I was on the verge of tears yet again, but they simply didn't flow that time. It made me wonder if I'd finally cried myself dry. "Thank you, Alice."

"I love you, Bells." One side of her glossy lips crept into the smallest of smiles. "But just so you know, I will likely morph back into regular, poor-decision making Alice at midnight."

With that, she hopped up and extended her hand out to me. "Let's go run you a bath. The crazy hot kind that you love for some reason I can't understand. I'll even let you use my fancy bubble bath."

I let my friend care for me that night in a way that so wasn't in her comfort zone. Turns out she was pretty good at it, despite that. She executed all the care measures I'd always done for her, but with a special Alice kind of flair…the fancy bubble bath (as promised), a hand painted wine glass (filled with wine from an actual bottle and not a box), and the piece de resistance--her Walker, Texas Ranger (because, per Alice, there is no hotter than Chuck Norris) pillowcase to sleep on.

I found sleep around midnight, dead to the world, and woke mid morning feeling achy, as if I had the flu. The decision I'd made and the weight of it all over me, was enough to feel like a physical ailment.

I knew what I had to do, and that didn't change even after a good night sleep. In the light of day my choice was even more dreadfully clear to me.

* * *

"Hey there, Little Bit."

"Hey." I found I was already teetering on the verge of tears at just the sound of his voice—gentle and loving. That didn't bode well for me.

"I was kind of hoping to hear from you Sunday night, Bells. Then you didn't call me back yesterday either. I was a little worried about you."

"Yeah, I was exhausted when I finally got home. Yesterday was crazy. Sorry," I cranked out my thin excuses.

"Oh, no worries. Just already miss you is all."

"I miss you too." I managed, as my bottom lip quivered.

"Is it possible that it's almost worse when we see each other? I mean, it's like I get used to you all over again, and then we have to say goodbye. It totally sucks."

"I know," I agreed, more wholeheartedly than he'd ever know.

"So Carlisle and Em loved you even more this time," Edward said, his voice upbeat and energetic. "And Rose, well she's almost giddy over you, and Rose doesn't do giddy."

"She's pretty amazing. I plan on staying in touch with her, actually."

"That's awesome. I can see you two becoming good friends." Edward sounded genuinely happy. "Once Rose decides to let you in, you'll never meet a more fiercely loyal person."

_Which I'm afraid I'm about to test._ I thought silently, cringing at the truth of it.

"She's pretty special. Emmett and Carlisle are too. You have some great people in your life, Edward." I forced out, with my heart in my throat.

"Bella, are you okay? Your voice sounds, oh, I don't know…off or something. You almost sound nervous."

I wasn't sure how long I could manage chitchat. If he was already noticing that my voice sounded different, I was sure it would only get more obvious as the minutes ticked by. I _was_ nervous, and devastated and sad and grief stricken. I wore it all on my sleeve too, even over the phone.

I shut my eyes and clinched my jaw tightly. "Edward, we need to talk."

I must have taken him off guard because he paused for several seconds, before saying, "That's not exactly something a guy looks forward to hearing from his girlfriend. What's up?"

"I'm not doing so well."

"Are you sick?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not okay…emotionally. I'm not okay at all." My voice broke at once.

"Bella, talk to me. What is it?" He questioned me in a strained voice. "You were fine, no, you were great when you were here. What happened between now and then?"

"Nothing _happened_," I explained quietly.

"Then what is it, Bells?"

My heart pounded wildly inside me. I took in several deep breaths fearing I might pass out if I didn't. There was no other way to say it than to just say it. "It's just that, I, um…I need for you to come home."

"We never did plan my next visit, did we? Let's get our calendars and get it hammered out right now," he said with urgency.

"No, you don't get it, Edward. I want you to come home. To come home and _stay _home."

"I know you want that. I want that too, B," he replied softly. "But you know I'm not in a position financially to do that right now."

Ignoring the excuse I'd known he'd offer, I quietly pled, "I _need_ foryou to come home, Edward. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this."

"Bells, listen to me. I know its hard—even harder when we've been together. But you can do this. _We_ can do this. In the big picture, a few years apart isn't that long." He was the voice of authoritative calm.

"But it is that long," I replied, more forcefully than expected. "It's killing me!"

"It kills me too, but I love you enough to do whatever it takes to keep us together. Even if it means living apart."

"You say that, Edward. You say you'll do whatever it takes to make us work, yet there is one thing you've never been willing to do."

"Name it. I'll do it." He breathed out in desperation.

"Come. Home."

"Come on, Bells, that's not fair."

"Don't talk to me about fair, Edward. You choosing that trail over me isn't fair."

"That's ridiculous! I'm not choosing anything over you. You know it isn't as simple as that. There's a lot riding on what Colorado has to offer me."

"I know that." I whispered, realizing exactly how much was riding on that…it was way more than Edward even knew.

"Bella, you are the most important thing in my life_. Everything_ I do---school, work, saving up—it's all with _our_ future in mind. Can't you see that?"

"No, I can't. You say all the right things, but your actions tell me a different story."

"I…I can't believe you're saying this. I've spent the last two years letting you know that I love you in every way I know how. I am completely devoted to you."

"And yet here I am, laying down every ounce of pride I have, literally begging you to come home to me." The tears came hard and fast. "Just _please_ come home," I managed through them.

"I can't." Edward answered me, clearly anguished.

"You won't."

"No, I _can't._ Not yet, Bella. You know how much this free ride helps my mom."

"I get that, but there are things like grants and student loans. There's other ways to manage the financial strain of college, without sending Esme into a tailspin."

"There are also other ways to make our situation better. We could visit each other more often. Or you…you could move here," he offered frantically.

"Seeing each other more often is too expensive. And we've gone round and round about me coming to live there, Edward. You know I can't afford out of state tuition."

"I know that," he muttered. "I'm just desperate here."

_Not desperate enough to come home_. I thought sadly.

"I feel the same way." I whispered.

"Then hang in there with me, Bella. This is just a tough phase. Of course it gets unbearable from time to time, but it _will_ get better. Just give it some time."

"I have given it time, Edward. Two years worth of time, plus the five before that, when I waited for you to love me back."

"That's completely different."

"Maybe it is, but it all feels the same. It's always me running after something that's just out of reach."

"But I'm _not_ out of reach. You own me, Bella. My heart is yours."

"Then why," I paused to steady my voice, "why doesn't it feel like it?"

"I don't know, but we can work on that. I can do better. You'll see."

I grew silent, recognizing that we were simply going to keep going back and forth. I couldn't let that happen. It hurt far too much to hear Edward's desperate pleas and supplications. It tore me apart to hear him promise to do more, to be better.

"Edward," I sighed heavily.

"What?" he asked me quietly, tentatively.

"I cannotdo this anymore. Something has to change. I need for you to understand that."

"I do understand, and I am promising you that we will work on things. _ I_ will work on things."

"You're not hearing me."

"Then tell me what you want for me to hear, Bella," he implored me sharply.

"I'm saying I want you to come home. If you can't do that, then you and I need to…" I swallowed hard, "to re-evaluate things."

"So is this…is this like some kind of ultimatum?" His tone was higher, incredulous.

"I wouldn't call it that."

"What is it then?"

"I'm telling you what I need."

"While putting me in a damn near impossible situation." For the first time, his tone was angry.

"I'm sorry, Edward. Would you rather me not tell you? Would you rather I just smile and act like everything is wonderful?"

"Of course not," he answered me immediately. Then he grew quiet for several beats. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy. "It's just that it _is_ wonderful for me. I just wish it were for you too. That's all."

My throat became tight as the pressure of tears pricked my eyes. If my resolve was ever going to weaken, this was the moment it might. I could almost see Edward's face, drawn and sad. I could almost see him raking his hair and clenching his jaw under the stress. It was hard to bear those images of him—hard to know I was responsible for them.

"I wish that too." I sobbed. "More than anything in the world, I wish I could handle being apart, but I can't anymore."

"Then where does that leave us, Bella? What now?" He sounded broken and small.

"Are you coming home to me, Edward?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Then I think we should take a break," I whispered.

"Our whole relationship has been nothing but a break."

"You know what I mean."

He sucked in a deep shuddery breath and exhaled loudly. "I don't want this, Bella."

"You actually think I do?"

"You seem pretty resolved with the idea."

"This isn't easy for me, Edward. This is the only thing I know to do."

Edward was quiet for several beats. His breathing was loud over the phone and I heard him sniff. It was clear he was crying, yet I refused to consider that thought. I _couldn't _consider that thought.

"If I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?" he finally spoke, albeit barely audibly.

"Of course I will."

"Is there more to all this than you're telling me?"

"No, Edward."

"You're sure?"

"I am."

"This had nothing to do with Jacob? Nothing to do with how close you two are?"

His question made my stomach drop. "Edward, I'm begging you to come home to me. Do you really think I would be doing that if there was something going on between me and Jake?"

"I suppose not," he sighed heavily. Then he added weakly, "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything, Bella. I just needed to know."

"Edward, this is one hundred percent about me wanting you…needing you. This is about us, and nothing more. I need to know that you believe that."

"I do believe that, but it all seemed to come from out of the blue. I didn't even know you were unhappy. I didn't know where it came from. It just made me wonder."

I entertained the thought of telling Edward about my intense reaction to Jake's note…for about 2 seconds, before deeming that a very bad idea. He would never understand my life-rocking revelation, because he'd be totally fixated on Jacob's presence in the matter.

"I haven't been unhappy, but you have to admit that almost every time we talk, we end up hashing out the long distance issue. It's _always _there, always looming around us, always causing tension and strain."

"But we always work through it. _Together_ we work through it."

"Only for it to come back with a vengeance the very next day…or the very next minute after we've gotten off the phone. And _that's _when it eats away at me--when I'm not hearing your voice or seeing your face, which is most of the time!"

"It's just part of long distance dating. We've known that since we started this whole thing."

_So tired of the chase _made a brash appearance in my thoughts once more. I took a deep breath to try to steady the chaos inside my heart.

"You're right, Edward, we did both know." I tried to speak calmly, but the tremor in my words betrayed me. "But it just came to a head, Edward. I'm physically sick, tormented over this, and I love you way too much to not be honest with you about it."

"And I'm glad you were honest, Bella. As much as it hurts I appreciate that."

We both became quiet. I know I was crying. The tears were silently streaming down both sides of my face. I guessed Edward was too.

"I'll give you some space, some breathing room. I don't want you sick over our relationship," he finally sighed out. "But I'm not giving up on us, you need to know that."

"I'm not giving up either," I echoed him weakly.

"I'm counting on that," he said in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

We cried through our goodbyes, and dragged them out. Edward even tried to talk me out of my decision another time before we finally ended the call, two hours later. I felt gutted, completely empty as the hollow dial tone pierced my ear. There was absolutely no relief in knowing I'd done what I felt to be the right thing. I felt no sense of accomplishment, no contribution to the greater good of anything. In fact, the only other thing I felt aside from an all-consuming sorrow, was the overwhelming knowledge of my own selfishness.

I concluded, that afternoon as I jumped in my truck and mindlessly drove, that a better girl—a more noble girl—would've endured whatever came her way if it meant being with Edward Masen. A more noble girl would've worked through her insecurities, if it meant her boyfriend's mother could actually breathe easy for once in her troubled life.

But apparently I was not that selfless girl—not by a long shot. And I feared my selfishness, as well as Edward's, would be the ultimate undoing of our love story.

Somehow my truck ended up on 67th street late that afternoon. I walked slowly to Our Tree, bypassing my house--and therefore dad and Sue--altogether. As I settled into my spot up against the sturdy trunk, I inhaled deeply and took in the familiar smells around me. The air was a bit cool, and hinted toward the fall crispness that was due any day.

It felt _right _under Our Tree. There I could pretend that I was a younger version of myself, desperately in love with the boy next door. As confusing as those years of pining had been for me, they seemed so simple compared to what I was enduring. I wished for those simpler times, when I believed love was enough and that all would be right in my world if only a certain green eyed boy loved me back.

Yet as Rose had so aptly concluded during our talk only two days before, maybe real life looks different? My real life did, anyway.

Dusk gave way to nightfall. When it became so dark around me that I couldn't see my own hand, I hoisted my stiff body up from the ground. I patted the Sycamore's trunk goodbye and glanced briefly at Edward's window. A thousand memories flooded my mind, especially ones of Edward--long and lean, climbing out of his bedroom to come see me, so we could chat the day away. His emerald eyes bright and captivating, and his crooked smile perfectly imperfect.

That's how I wanted to picture him, not crying and struggling, not agitated and frustrated, not broken and defeated—all the things my call had caused him to be.

I wanted to picture my Edward as the glorious boy who my whole world couldn't help but orbit around. The boy who stole my heart when I was younger and held it in the palm of his hand, and probably always would. The boy I still adored with everything in me, even if I couldn't be with him.

"I love you, Edward Masen," I found myself whispering through my tears, as I held on to the image of my choosing, "forever and a day."

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**did you see this coming? can you blame B, or do you think she's crazy?**

**I have my own theories on why B has made this choice...I won't get into it, but she is a broken girl who has been let down a lot. Certainly her decisions will stem from that...**


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU.**

I LOVE MY BETA, KLARSEN18!!!!!

**I am thankful to you guys for reading, and when you pimp me...sigh...there's nothing more flattering. I want to share a review with you that i got from the last chapter, b/c I loved it and it describes how I feel about B and E: "_This is my favorite kind of conflict in fiction, the one where I can't point out the guilty party, because there's none. Both their view points are valid and I can fully empathize with Edward's idealism and Bella's exhaustion." _Now, I know (from your reveiws) that many of you don't have any trouble picking a guilty party (...it rhymes with fella), but while i totally get the way you feel toward B, fully assigning blame isn't so easy for me. I'm just sayin.**

Check out my profile page for Jacob's song. I also posted some pics on my blog of how I see Jake.

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*****This chapter takes place at the beginning of their senior year of college**

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Chapter 21—"Big Pink Elephant" (1995)

Even though Alice wasn't home, I locked my bedroom door. This is because what I was going to do shamed me. I wasn't about to let anyone catch me in the middle of it, only to be compelled to say _poor Bella_, _I'm so sorry_, or worse yet, _I'm kind of_ _worried about you, sweetie, it's been 8 months_.

There were times my skin almost itched with the need to get a fix. That's when I'd sneak into my room, latch my door and grab his stack of letters from under my bed…all 35 of them. Then I'd open each one and re-read every word, feeling an immediate rush of relief.

Edward had begun writing me in lieu of phone calls, once the phone calls became pointless, detrimental even. During our conversations we did nothing more than idle in the impasse of our individual choices. No matter how much we talked, or verbally sparred as it were, we always came to the same conclusion. Neither of us was willing to bend or compromise in the ways that mattered. Talking to Edward, and hearing that voice that commanded my soul, made the maddening and ridiculous nature of our relationship more blatant, more real. Because it hurt so very much, not to mention the fact that the overwhelming tension only led to senseless fights, we mutually decided to back off a bit and not talk so frequently.

Thus, he became an avid letter writer and I, well, I became a hopeless--though closeted--letter reader. The tenor of his writing was different enough to let me know he acknowledged that things had changed between us. His letters were heavy on information—about the trail and school--and light on emotion, just as was appropriate for the state of our relationship. Even so, even when the content was nothing more than something a pen pal would share, he still signed his letters _forever and a day. _My heart quickened each time I read and re-read the sentiment. It was that feeling, that_ knowing_ that he still loved me that kept me coming back, and that held me prisoner to those folded sheets of paper that possessed a power over me I was ashamed to admit.

No one knew about my little habit. No one--not Alice, Rose or even Jake, who I was closest to--had any idea how attached I was to Edward's correspondence, nor were they privy to how often I pulled out his letters. If you asked my friends, I was still sad, but after eight months had come a long way and was on the road to normal. This is what I wanted them to believe. I didn't want them to know how hard it was for me, how sometimes I could swear I saw Edward on campus or around town. That when it registered with me that he indeed wasn't there, my heart would break anew. I couldn't let them know these things, because if they did they might make me go get help, or go "talk to someone." Worse yet, they might pity me or see me as weak, both of which I was, but couldn't bear for them to know.

Eight months of space from Edward hadn't healed me or eased me, nor had life become easier. The _only_ thing eight months had done, was teach me something I already knew: neither time, nor distance could sever the hold that Edward Masen had on me.

Despite that hold, I still believed it wasn't right for me to be with him. That's why his letters were enough, because they simply had to be. Yes, it broke my heart, but hurting on my own accord—because of a choice _I'd_ made—was an entirely different situation than hurting because Edward wouldn't choose me. _That_ kind of hurt had done its work on me for over 2 years, and I couldn't go back for more…I wouldn't go back for more. As hard as it was to stay away--to not jump in my truck, drive to him and ask him to take me back forever--I stuck to my resolve. Some days were harder than others, and it was on those days I usually found myself alone in my room with a lap full of letters.

On the flipside, by far the easiest part of any day, of my entire life really, was my friendship with Jake. He remained a bright spot in my world; ever attentive, ever comforting, and most importantly, just _there_. Our relationship was easy, requiring no tweaking or manipulation of any kind. The absence of struggle was completely refreshing to me.

He had a knack for showing up at exactly the right time, exactly when I needed him most. When I felt alone, desperately sad over Edward, Jake would inevitably pop in and bring me a Slurpee, or come by and drag me to the skateboard park, or demand I see a movie with him because he didn't want to be "that poor guy who goes to movies alone." My tears never seemed to last long with Jake in the picture. He wouldn't hear of it. He couldn't stand to see me down, and sometimes I wondered if his personal mission in life was to make Bella Swan smile.

There is no doubt in my mind that I could not have made it through those eight months without Jake. I'm also fairly sure that had he not been my constant, I would have gone to back to Edward and re-entered a relationship that would have ultimately led us right down the same road where we left off.

When I was still with Edward, I could only conjecture if Jake felt something for me. Of course, Alice always suspected it, but I didn't really notice it or give it any credence. However, the day Jake found out Edward and I were "taking a break," something infinitesimal changed in the guy. Something in those russet eyes intensified in a way I couldn't identify or even name, but I saw it and I knew it. I saw the way he looked at me, the way he hung on my every word. I recognized a smile he reserved only for me, and an attentiveness toward me he didn't pay to anyone else.

Despite the obviousness of Jake's affections, he respected the invisible boundary that was in place, and I never feared he would cross it or ask me to. Was I selfish to be so close to a boy who I knew wanted more from me? Could it have been said I was just leading the poor guy on, or even using him? I simply chose not to entertain those options because Jake never demanded that I think about such things. He never questioned my intentions or motives. He just let me be me.

Jacob Black was my friend, my sunshine, and I needed him. He helped keep me together. He helped fill the gaping hole within me—the hole that Edward's letters could only fill for minutes at a time. Most importantly, he helped me see there was still a reason to smile.

One warm and breezy September afternoon, I was sitting with my personal human sunshine on a bench just outside the library on campus. Jake had a ballcap pulled down low and snug, because he hated the West Texas wind—something that in even over two years of residency he hadn't come to grips with. He wore an unbuttoned madras plaid shirt, to reveal a ratty X-Men Wolverine t-shirt underneath. His brown eyes were bright and energetic that day. They truly were windows into the guy's soul, and from them I could tell an idea was brewing.

"Quick. First concert you ever went to." He spoke in his quirky rapid cadence he sometimes used, that I had deemed "auctioneer-ese."

"That's easy," I sniffed. "Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam."

He responded with a dramatic eye roll.

"I almost got trampled at that concert, I'll have you know. Like the way people get trampled at European soccer games."

"You mean futbol games."

"Whatever. And you? What was your first concert?"

"Bon Jovi. First time I ever saw a bra," he answered without missing a beat.

"Do I want to hear this?"

"Women were throwing their bras at Jon and Richie. So I actually saw _many_ bras. Not up close or anything, but I was in the same arena as those bras. At the age of twelve, that's good enough."

"That's super pathetic and in a weird way kind of sweet, Jake."

"Thanks, I think?" He pulled off his cap and smoothed down his black hair, which was completely sticking up. Then he plunked his cap back down on his head, backward this time, which was my favorite look on him.

I spun around on the bench to face him, drawing my legs up under me. "So what are you doing tonight? Do you have your Future Engineers of America Meeting?" I could barely keep a straight face.

"You mean _Engineering Society_. You know I do, and stop making fun of it."

"I'm not," I maintained, feeling my cheek twitch in the urge to grin. "But don't you get tired of those geek fests, I mean, meetings?"

"Two words, Bella. _Resume_. _Builder_."

"That's my Jacob, always thinking ahead."

"I do what I can. And yes, the meetings are heinous, but Phil and I always goof off in the back anyway."

"He's the one I met last weekend?"

"Yep. White blond hair, slight lisp, had a role in the original _Mighty Ducks_?"

"I remember lisp guy, but I had no idea he was in that movie," I giggled. "To think, he actually knows Emilio."

"Let me guess. You had a crush on him?"

"Who didn't?" I said nonchalantly, knowing Jake must never become privy to the fact that I had an Emilio Estevez picture collage—specifically _Breakfast Club_ era Emilio--in my 6th grade notebook.

"Well, we'll just have to see if Phil has any remaining connections to the guy so we can get you an autograph," he mocked. "Though I kind of doubt it. He was only in the movie for 3 minutes."

"Not even 15 minutes of fame."

"Nope. And the funniest thing about it is that Phil was like 18 at the time and he played a 13 year old."

"Ouch."

"I know."

"Well, he was in a movie, which is way more than any of the rest of can say."

"I suppose you're right." Jake lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "But I'll have you know, I was in a nationally televised commercial as a kid."

"Well…give me the details."

"Nah. That's a story for another day." He winked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Of course it is," I grinned. "So my dad and Sue are going out of town this weekend. If you want, we could go over there and watch movies on his T.V."

"On the big ass one?"

"None other."

"I'm there," he answered me quickly, as he silently engaged me in a bout of Rock-Paper-Scissors. I mindlessly went along, only to have my scissors crushed by his rock.

"What are we playing for here? And don't I at least get best 2 out of 3?"

"Fine." He put his hand out, to go to battle with me again.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors," we chanted in unison.

I looked down to see he had paper and I had rock. "Shoot! You beat me again. I still say you cheat at that, Jacob Black!"

He rumpled my hair with his hand. "The only way to cheat would be to have ESP, and I've told you a thousand times, I can't read minds. I can only move things with my thoughts."

I couldn't help but giggle girlishly, which I did a lot of around Jake.

"So wanna know what we were playing for?"

"Yeah. Especially since I just lost, and am apparently at your mercy."

"Well," he drew the out word, "I want you to accompany me to none other than the Engineering Society Spring formal. And before you say no, please remember I won Rock, Paper, Scissors, fair and square."

"Granted. But you gotta admit that I didn't even know what I was playing for."

He shrugged his shoulders smugly. "Fair is fair."

"So what exactly does this formal entail? Free pocket protectors as a parting gift?"

"Very funny, Bella. Actually, we'll have a nice dinner followed by dancing at a posh country club. There will be tons of drunk people to watch and make fun of. And best yet, Jake Black in a tux. I'll have you know I'm very Bond-esque in a penguin suit."

"Roger Moore or Sean Connery?"

"Whichever one you think is hotter. So what do ya say, Bella? Make me a happy guy and agree to be my date? I assure you, I'll treat you like the princess you are. And I won't even get handsy, unless of course you want me too." His impish grin beckoned a grin from me in return.

"You know I can't say no to my friend." I replied, while elbowing him in the ribs.

"About that," he exhaled, "there's a condition."

"So your offer is conditional? What have we come to, Jake?" I replied in mock drama.

"No, seriously, Bella."

His tone and his somber expression snapped me out of my playfulness. "Okay?"

"I want to take you to this dance more than anything in the world. But I want it to be a _real_ date. You and me on a real date, and not just buddies dressed up and enjoying a night out." He swallowed deep and licked his lips. His nervous eyes were fixed unwaveringly on mine.

With my heart in my throat, I lowered my head. "Jake."

"Please just listen to me, Bella. Will you listen to me before you say no?"

"Of course I will," I whispered plaintively.

"Its just that its been over eight months since you and he broke it off. I watched you not eat, stare into space with no light in your eyes, never smile. And now you're doing so much better. And you seem happy when you're with me, and I _know _I'm happy when I'm with you. Why _not _give it a shot, Bella? Give me one reason not to give it a shot."

I just shook my head, and very quietly answered him. "I'm not over him."

Jake winced ever so slightly. "I know that, and I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to handle it."

"But I'm willing to."

"Don't you think you deserve a girl that doesn't carry a U-Haul full of baggage with her?"

"Ideally…well, yeah. I get sick of helping her haul it everywhere." Jake employed his easy sense of humor even in tensest of moments. "But I want to be with you, Bella, and I'll take what comes with that. You won't feel this way forever. You'll get over him, and maybe just maybe, you'll learn to be with…someone new. I won't rush you or push you. I'm a patient guy, and I've got nothing but time."

"Jake."

"Bella, look at this way. All I want is one date with you. We'll see how it goes and take it from there. Can you just give me that?"

My eyes met his. In those pools of rich chocolate I saw the absolute absence of pride. He was vulnerable—laid open wide before me—begging for just the chance of a chance.

In an instant, I thought of how much Jake had meant to me--how accessible he'd been to me, what a rock he'd been for me, and how little he'd ever asked of me in return.

"Just a date?" I reiterated in a whisper.

"Just a date."

I decided right then, caught in his shining, earnest eyes, that I could give him what he asked of me—the only thing he'd _ever_ requested of me in our friendship. Certainly I owed him something. Certainly after everything he'd given me, I could put myself out there and see to his needs for once.

"Yes," I blurted out. "I'll be your date. Your _date_, date." As soon as the words escaped my mouth, somehow I knew I'd live to regret them.

His grin spread wide, practically splitting his face in half. He scanned my eyes for several seconds and then I saw his gaze fall to my lips. Quickly, and before I knew what he was doing, he leaned in and placed the softest of kisses on the very side of my mouth. His move shocked me, and surprising me even more, was the fact that I quite liked the feel of his lips on me. I hadn't ever really entertained the thought of kissing my friend Jake, but I was sure if I had, the reality of it was far better than what I would've imagined.

Stunned, I touched my fingers to my mouth where his lips had been.

The apples of his dark cheeks blossomed crimson, and he beamed his radiant smile at me, with bright glassy eyes. Then he looked down at his hands, before lifting his eyes once more. "I hope you didn't mind it?" His face was this strange mixture of resoluteness and unease.

I took a deep breath and without thinking, leaned in and kissed him back, but only on the cheek. I didn't mind his impetuous peck, but I certainly wasn't ready to encourage more of the same.

In the wake of my kiss, he grinned again, but this time he seemed almost mystified. Mystified, simply because I'd kissed his cheek. He stared at me adoringly, this perfect mix of boy and man, and I almost let myself get lost in the way he looked. Almost. Until an image of Edward's face suddenly and almost violently flashed through my mind. Blinking several times, I recognized a sick feeling of nausea in my gut, and wondered if I had I done something wrong that I should regret.

When Jake began to search my face with pensive eyes, I knew I was letting my unrest show. I quickly pulled myself together, banishing Edward's emerald gaze from my thoughts. I forced myself to wink at my sweet vulnerable friend and then I promptly nodded over toward the library door.

"So, Mr. Black, your homework isn't going to do itself, and if you fail your classes, you're _so_ out of the Future Engineers of America. Which would leave us with no awesome formal to go to. We should probably head back in there."

"Um." He took pause, as his puzzled eyes carefully studied my face. "You're right?"

He quickly stood up, still wearing a baffled, whiplashed expression and extended his hand to me to pull me from the bench. It wasn't something out of the ordinary, as he was constantly looking after me, and always the consummate gentleman. But that day, he didn't let go of my hand once I was standing, and that definitely wasn't our norm. In fact, he held onto it tighter and laced his fingers through mine. I saw him chance a look at me to gauge my reaction. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and we walked back into the library looking very much like a couple. Whether we felt like one or not—at least on my end--was debatable.

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Ten short days later I found myself in a borrowed fuchsia formal, getting my hair primped by Alice. Surprisingly, butterflies took captive my stomach as I waited for my first real date with Jake. I quite liked the feeling of anticipation, as it had been awhile since I felt such a thing.

"You look hot. Like super hot," Alice commented enthusiastically, as she corkscrewed a piece of my hair around a curling iron.

"Thanks." My eyes were fixated on the large barrel curling iron just inches from my skin. "Please don't burn me!"

"Are you kidding? Please, I've got this."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I can feel the heat coming off that thing."

"My vision for your look tonight," she began in all seriousness, "is a head full of curls. But since your hair is not naturally curly, we need to take certain measures, such as a very stout curling iron. So please just sit there and look pretty and let me do my work here." She was snippy, speaking as if she possessed the authority of someone who had owned a salon for twenty years.

"Have at it." I rolled my eyes.

"So, you and Jake, huh?" she hedged.

"Are going to a formal together." I replied evenly.

"I've seen you two together lately. Something's different." Alice pressed on.

"I'm going on a date with him. We'll see where it goes," I replied, trying to sound airy and light, even though the entire subject knotted my stomach.

"So does _he _know about your new coupledom?"

"If you mean _he_ as in Edward, then no. _He_ doesn't know yet, because there's nothing for him to know."

"If you want my opinion, you're _so_ dating Jake, and I think Edward needs to know."

I spun around, forcing Alice to release my hair. "First of all, I didn't ask for your opinion, and secondly, since when do you stick up for Edward? And if there was something he deserved to know, by the way, I would be the first to tell him."

"Aren't we touchy?" Her dark eyes were wide.

"Sorry, Al." I sighed, knowing that allowing thoughts of Edward and Jacob to intersect was not a wise thing. "I suppose when it comes to this, I am a little touchy."

"At any rate, Jake is good for you. You are happy around him. He's not complicated, and that is a very good thing for my broody, serious best friend who spent way too much of her life pining for Mr. Unavailable."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, shifting back around to give her free reign of my hair once more.

"What?" she asked innocently in her sweet soprano voice.

"I prefer _focused_ over broody. And for your information, I didn't pine. It was a _mutual_ long distance relationship."

I grabbed a magazine and began mindlessly flipping through it, wanting nothing more than to stop the talk of anything related to Edward. In the mirror I saw Alice roll her eyes at me. I rolled mine back at her for good measure. Sometimes she felt more like a sister than a friend.

"So when do you start at the rental car place, Al?"

"Next week," she commented, with a quick bob of her head. "In fact, I need to go buy some professional looking outfits. Think the female version of the power suit! Won't I look fabulous?"

"You always do. But maybe you should just start the job and get a feel for what it's like before you invest in a bunch of new clothes, especially expensive business suits."

I wasn't just being my usual practical self. I'd actually seen Alice, on too many occasions to count, jump into something without appropriate thought. Who knew if this latest job would even last? Knowing her, she'd decide it was too hard to go to class and also hold down a job, and she'd resort to the handy dandy credit card once more to cover her expenses.

"Whatev, Bells." She was flippant, likely not hearing a thing I said. "I have to look the part is all."

Then without missing a beat, she began rambling on about how she wished she could have had a teacher like Michelle Pfeiffer in _Dangerous Minds_, and how her grades in high school would have been so much better had there been a teacher to believe in her and push her and give her tough love. I only mock-listened to her random tangent while I continued to look at my magazine. I interjected several _uh hums_ and _yeahs_, but truth be told, I was pre-occupied. Banishing Edward's face from my mind was my utmost priority. Thanks to Alice's mention of him, he was alive and well in my subconscious, on a night I really didn't want him to be.

A quick forty-five minutes later, a very dapper Jake knocked at our apartment door. Armed with a gaudy wrist corsage in a big clear plastic box, he stepped across the threshold.

"You don't have to wear this. But I remembered you told me you never made it to your Senior Prom because of brainy appendicitis boy. I wanted you to have this horribly ugly corsage in homage to that night."

"How thoughtful." I grinned, as I took in the sight of him. He wasn't kidding about looking good in a tuxedo. All six foot four of him wore it well.

With a shaking hand, he offered the floral monstrosity over to me.

"Well I'll be. I don't think I've ever seen _the _Jacob Black this nervous."

"That's because _the _Jacob Black is about to have the most beautiful girl in any room on his arm tonight. I'd say that's a good cause for a bit of nerves."

To that, I could only blush and raise up on the balls of my feet so I could lightly kiss his cheek. "You certainly make me feel beautiful anyway."

Our eyes met, and in his I saw adoration, and what I thought to be gratitude.

And as if to confirm my suspicion, he whispered, "Thanks. Thanks for being my date tonight. I may be the happiest guy on the planet."

I was drawn to everything about Jake. From his kind brown eyes that had been a comfort to me since the first day I ever saw the guy, to his prickly black mane, that stood straight up. And to what was underneath it all--a sharp wit that never failed to make me laugh, and one of the most generous hearts I'd ever known.

"Bella, you're pretty everyday, but tonight it's like," he paused, searching for the perfect word, "there are no words."

"You clean up pretty nicely too," I whispered, running my hand over his hair, attempting to coax his coarse strands into place. "You know what? It's perfect just like it is." I decided, withdrawing my hand.

"So answer me a question, Bella."

"Okay?"

"I want to take you to that steak house just outside of town, but Phil said that would be lame because it's got a country…," he paused and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, "a country _motaf_."

"You mean motif?" I asked through a wide grin.

"_That_." He nodded his head, wide eyed. "But I told Phil you aren't prissy and would like to eat there despite the country vibe-thing. Plus, it's like a ten-minute drive to the formal from there, which I thought was a good thing. So what do ya think?"

Endeared by the intention he'd put into every detail—from the corsage to dinner—I found myself leaning into him and throwing my arms around his midsection. I wrapped my arms as far around him as they'd go and squeezed him tightly.

"Thank you, Jake," I whispered.

"What for, Bella?" he asked me softly, as his arms found their way around me.

"Just for being you," I sighed.

I felt him kiss the top of my head and tighten his grip on me. It was this sweet, lovely, perfect moment, in which I felt nothing but happy unencumbered thoughts…right up until the phone rang, loud and shrill.

Startled, I jerked away, dropping the corsage box I was clutching in one hand, just as Alice came bounding into the living room.

"I got it! I got it." She eyed us curiously, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow, as she grabbed the receiver.

"Hello." She paused, listened, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, hey Edward."

My knees buckled and I felt the color drain from my face. My hands were at my sides, literally shaking, and my heart raced a mile a minute in my chest. I'd gone from complete bliss, to my own personal hell in under thirty seconds.

I turned to face Alice, leaving my back to Jake, and mouthed to her, _I can't talk_.

She quickly nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry Edward. She just left with Jake. You just missed them."…"Sure. I'll tell her you called. But they went to some kind of formal for engineering geeks."

Jake cleared his throat behind me.

"She'll probably be late," Alice continued on, then she paused. Her face visibly softened as she listened to whatever Edward had to say.

"Yeah, I'm doing good. I _did _pass that management class, thanks for asking."..."Yeah, um, it was good to hear your voice as well." …"You take care too. Bye, Edward."

My heart pounded in my chest and my throat felt dry. The timing of the call was the absolute worst for so many reasons. A heavy tension hung in the air, as Alice's anxious eyes connected with mine.

"Well, um…so…y'all have a stellar time," she interjected awkwardly, looking from me to Jacob and then back to me again. "And you both look really amazing, by the way."

And with that, Alice vanished back into her bedroom, leaving Jake and I all alone with the big pink elephant in the living room. The phone call we'd just heard hovered around us like a living, breathing third person.

Nervously, I turned to face him. "Jake…" my voice trailed off.

"Bella, it's okay." He moved over to our couch and plopped down, patting the space next to him.

I bent down and snatched the corsage box from the floor, and made my way over to sit with him. "I'm so sorry. Talk about bad timing. That was awful and awkward."

He grabbed my hand. "Something like that was bound to happen."

"How so?"

"I know how you feel about him. I know he's still a part of your life. It's not going to go away overnight. I understand that." Then he captured my eyes with his. "The question is, are you okay? You looked pretty shaken up there for a minute."

Where I should have seen frustration and hurt all over Jake, I only saw compassion.

"I'm…I'm okay. It just took me off guard is all."

"Me too."

"I want you to know, Jake…I want you to know that I'm trying." I told him in a weak voice.

"I know you are."

"Please hear me when I say I'm not hanging onto him because I want to. It's like some days I'll feel so strong and accomplished or something. Then the very next day, it's like I see his face everywhere, and it hurts as if we broke up yesterday. I don't want it to be that way. You have to believe me," I begged.

"I do believe you." He wrapped his arm around me and drew me into him. I almost rested my head on his chest. Just almost. I opted for his shoulder instead, knowing there was only one heartbeat that would ever call to me.

"I told you the other day, Bella, and I'll say it again. I know this isn't easy for you. I know it will take time, but I'll wait for you. You're worth it."

My eyes filled with tears. His patience and persistence made no sense at all, especially coming from a twenty-year old guy, with a campus full of girls who'd jump at a chance to be with him.

"Jake, you really are too good to be true."

"And you're just now coming to that conclusion?" He was deadpan, but the side of his mouth twitched into a half smile.

I sat up and faced him, wanting him to see my eyes, to know my sincerity. "I don't deserve you, Jacob. I know that. And all I know to tell you is that I'm working on letting go. I'm doing my best."

"And that's enough for me." His hand cupped my face.

I placed my hand on top of his, immediately feeling the warmth that radiated from him. "I'd understand if it wasn't."

"But it is. My friends think I'm crazy, you know. They think that any guy would be flat out insane to try to compete with another guy's ghost. Especially a guy that's still around. But you know what I tell them?"

I shook my head slowly.

"I tell them they should spend just five minutes with you, and they'd understand exactly why you're worth it."

My breath hitched in my throat at the transparency of his feelings--at the total lack of self-importance in his whole posture toward me. I realized as I gazed into those sweet coffee-colored eyes that one of the best things about Jake was that he_ did_ make me feel worth it. Like he'd move heaven and earth to be with me, and something like a stupid hiking trail or a free ride wouldn't be able to keep him away from me.

Because words only seemed futile, because Jake was precious to me in a way I couldn't express, I did the only thing I could in the moment, which was to lean in and kiss him. I did just that, and this time it wasn't just on the cheek. One kiss turned into two, two into three, and before we knew it, we were an hour late for our formal.

As I lost myself in Jake Black that night—his tender touch, his all-encompassing embrace--I felt whole. It was only a momentary fix though, a fleeting relief, just like my stack of letters. I knew that as soon as I was alone again, I'd be haunted by a pair of piercing green eyes and the thousand memories attached to them. Temporary as it was, I knowingly settled for what Jake offered, simply grateful that the big pink elephant was no longer in the room with us.

While I had been honest with Jake that I would keep trying to get over Edward, I hadn't been altogether forthright. The truth was I knew there _was_ no getting over Edward, no getting him out of my system. He was fused to me at a cellular level that even I didn't understand. Getting over him simply wasn't possible in my estimation, and in those moments when I was completely real with myself, I knew I was glad it wasn't possible. Getting over Edward would be to change the very essence of myself. Getting over him would be as ludicrous and painful as cutting off my own arm.

As they say, old habits die hard.

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**next up...back to the year 2000. let's see what Bella did after Edward's rejection.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.**

author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU, all human.

**Thanks to my beta, klarsen18!**

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Back to present day...this chapter takes place the day after Bella's "closure" conversation with Edward.

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**Chapter**** 22 **** Present Day (February 2000)**

On the drive back home from my ill-fated mission to Fort Worth, I couldn't wear my ring. Its exquisite shimmer and radiance would catch my eye as my left hand rested on the steering wheel. Each time every brilliant facet of the flawless diamond caught a ray of light, I became increasingly aware of what a fraud I had been the entire time I'd been with Mike.

Mike was a decent, wonderful man who I'd pretended to love in that way a girl loves when she accepts someone's ring. I pretended so well, imitated the part so authentically, that even I believed my own act from time to time. I knew the truth though, had always known it, and forever was never in the cards for Mike and me.

What I'd done was treacherous. Playing the role of faithful girlfriend for months and then ultimately his fiancé, while knowing without a doubt my heart simply wasn't in it. The only way to make it right, to rectify what I'd done, was to hurt him in the end. To look him in the eye, and for once be transparent, and tell him I was no longer his bride-to-be. Not anymore.

I dreaded what I must do. It killed me to know that I had to hurt him. Yet underneath my sadness, was this strange, unmistakable sense of relief. The charade would soon be over and there'd be no more pretending.

Mike returned from Chicago the day after I got back. As always, he came straight to my house after work, bustling with excitement just to see me.

He came into my living room wearing a tie I'd never seen that was a brilliant blue. It made his eyes shine like Paul Newman's. It startled me. It broke me.

"Hey there, sweet thing," he murmured, leaning down to where I sat on the couch, nuzzling my neck with his nose.

Struggling to find my voice at first, I cleared my throat heartily. "So how was the trip? Did you make that contact you were hoping to secure?"

"I did." He kicked off his shoes and settled in beside me on the sofa. He rested one arm around my shoulders, using the other hand to pat my knee. I felt the warmth of his hand through the fabric of my pants.

"You're a breath of fresh air." He grinned my way, and for the first time must have recognized something amiss in my eyes, because his smile abruptly faltered.

He sat up taller, with a concerned look painting his gentle features. "What is it Bella? You don't look so good."

"I'm not doing so good, Mike," I admitted quietly, lowering my eyes in shame.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Did something happen at work?"

I shook my head.

"Was it your trip? Did something happen in Dallas?"

"You could say that."

"Well?"

I dug my nails into the sofa cushion, seeking support of any kind. "I didn't go to Dallas, Mike. Well I went for a day, but then I drove on into the metroplex." I paused, feeling the urge to back out at the last minute. My pause lasted only seconds before I added the nail in the coffin. "Fort Worth to be exact."

"Fort Worth?" Recognition slowly covered every feature of his face, and his complexion became pallid. He blinked several times and I saw his throat bob in a deep swallow. Then he loosened the knot of that bright blue tie. "Y-you went to see _him_, didn't you?"

I merely nodded and continued staring down at my hand as it fiddled with a stray thread on my scrubs.

An uncomfortable silence shrouded us for several seconds, and I held my breath until I heard him speak again. "You still love him don't you?" His voice gave way as he finished the sentence.

I found it so strange that Mike went straight to that assumption, skipping more intermediary questions. He didn't even ask why I'd gone to see Edward. He assumed the worst because he just knew. Then again, how could he not?

"I asked you a simple question." His voice was eerily calm.

I continued to stare at my hands, unable to utter the words that would reveal to this lovely man what kind of person I really was.

"Do you or don't you still love him?" This time there was a sharp edge to his statement.

I winced, but quickly composed myself. Yet words were still not a feasible option, so I simply nodded my head.

"So what? Are you _with_ him now?"

This time I shook my head no.

"God, Bella, don't you think you at least owe me some words here? I feel like I'm trying to talk to a two year old!" His tone shocked me. Mike never, never raised his voice with me.

"Y-yes, I owe you words. I owe you more than that. I-I'm sorry. This is hard."

I finally allowed my eyes to find his. His normally serene and steady gaze was wild and frenzied. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead and he couldn't have been paler.

"Then say something. Don't make me guess here."

"Listen, Mike. I only went there to get closure with him. I was just so unsettled about things…"

"Unsettled about what?"

"Lots of things. I-I wasn't adjusting to being engaged all that well."

"That's news to me." He shoved his hands into his hair roughly.

"I never said anything to you because I was sure it would pass," I lied.

"I'm so glad you can so easily keep something like that from me."

"It wasn't easy to keep it from you. I shouldn't have."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have. Exactly how would going to see _him _help you adjust to our engagement?"

"I wanted to go to him and say goodbye once and for all. I thought it might free me up and allow me to head into _our _future with confidence."

"When I met you eight months ago you told me you and _he _were over for good. How was that not closure?" he replied sharply as he stood up and began pacing the floor of my living room.

"It just…wasn't."

"So do you have it now or not?"

"I think I finally do…have it," I admitted.

Mike's chest fell in an exhalation, and his rigid features softened infinitesimally, until I added, "But I still can't be with you."

He shut his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw. "Then, you're with him."

"I'm not. I am not with him, but I still can't be with you."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because can't you see, Mike, can't you see that you deserve more?"

"Why don't you let me decide what I deserve?"

"I still love him, Mike. You can't marry a woman who still loves someone else!"

"You've known the guy since you were born. Don't you think it's possible a part of you will always love him?"

"Probably."

He stopped pacing and his anxious, pleading blue eyes settled on me. "And I've _always_ understood that, Bella."

"I know you have. You've been amazing."

"I'm willing to keep understanding because I love you, Bella. We can work through this…this glitch."

"It's more than a glitch, Mike."

"It's normal, Bella, it's normal for a part of you to always hang onto your first love. Heck, a part of me will always care deeply for Lisa."

"I get what you're saying, Mike, I do. But the problem is," I paused, taking in the enormity of what I was about to admit. "The problem is that the part of me that still loves him is…"

"Is what?"

"Is the very biggest part of me. And that's why I can't be your wife."

I watched his face melt into defeat. His eyes became crestfallen, and the panicked energy that had been there, was no more. He simply sunk into the chair as if he would've fallen straight to the ground had it not been there to catch him.

"Mike, I never meant to do this to you. I never meant to hurt you." Then my words faded into a whisper. "And I never meant to stay in love with him."

"Was there _anything_ you meant to do?"

The harshness of his words made my head jerk up.

"You act like you have no control over anything, Bella. Like you're the victim in this deal. I'm not that experienced in the whole relationship department, and correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't love a choice?"

"If it was a choice, I would've made it," I answered him weakly.

"That's just it. I think you did."

I opened my mouth to protest, but I couldn't find my argument, because I didn't have one.

"You made the choice all those years ago when you fell in love with that guy. And no matter how he treats you or what he does to you, you still choose to love him. The hold he has on you isn't merited, and it prevents you from moving forward. He'll never be what you deserve or what you need. He'll _never_ choose you."

The burden of Edward's rejection rested on my shoulders in a new way, as Mike's words brought it to life again.

"You're right. You are. But that doesn't change anything."

"Do you enjoy the punishment? Do you enjoy running after him and never catching him? Because your persistence in the matter leads me to believe you do." Mike wasn't being cruel. If anything he was being methodical, approaching our situation as he would any problem. As his argument took shape, it became plain to me that my sweet Mike was very well versed in all things Bella and Edward. He may have acted simple and unknowing about it all, but he saw things with a clarity I hadn't given him credit for.

"Of course I don't," I offered weakly.

"Yet you still love him?"

I could only nod.

"And you're willing to throw away what _we've_ built because of _him_?"

"I guess I am," I managed.

"Here's the deal, Bella," he began, his voice was still steady but carried an angry edge, "if you want to choose to love someone who doesn't love you back. If you want to throw away what we have over some guy who has never deserved you, then so be it. I guess it's your prerogative. But I need for you to know that once I walk out of here, I am gone. Done. And I'm not coming back. Do you get what I'm saying?"

He watched me with expectancy. As his words hit home, I let their severity soak in, because I deserved them. Even though it hurt to see his anger, his despair, I mostly felt relief, because he was doing exactly what I'd hoped he would do. I wanted nothing more than for this amazing man to be free of me. Since the day I met him, I had brought him harm. He finally comprehended that reality calmed the ever-present anxiety that ate at me day and night.

"I understand, Mike," I answered him quietly.

"And you're willing for me to walk out that door?"

I swallowed hard. Staring through tear filled eyes at the man that could have been my future, I simply nodded.

He shut his eyes and I saw a tear spring from the corner of each.

I slowly stood from the couch, grabbing the black velvet box off of my fireplace mantle. Before I turned to hand it to him, a framed picture of a younger version of Edward and me caught my attention. Next to it sat one of Mike and me on a trip to Mexico. As my eyes were pulled by some unseen force toward one of the pictures, anger, then grief, and at last affirmation came over me.

"Here," I whispered, as I handed him the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen.

"I don't want that, Bella. It's yours." His eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"I can't keep it. I should've never taken it in the first place."

His body physically recoiled at my admission. "What do you expect me to do with it?"

"I don't know. Sell it?"

"Whatever," he breathed out, as he rose from the chair. Shoving the ring box into his pocket, he turned his back to me. He stood still for several seconds. The only movement I could see was the rise and fall of his shoulders as he took each breath. Then he turned to face me, wearing an expression I couldn't name and made his way over to me slowly, but with intention. I found myself being pulled into an embrace I didn't deserve. Then I heard words whispered into my ear that I wasn't worthy of.

"I'll miss you. I don't want this, but you've given me no choice."

He hung on, clung to me really, for several seconds before finally releasing me and stepping away.

"Good bye, Bella." He opened his mouth to speak again, but firmly shut it.

I watched his broad back, slumped in defeat, make its way over to his shoes and then toward my front foyer. Every cell in my body wanted to call out to him and make him stay. Yet again, every cell in my body also wanted to love him with reckless abandon. Neither was going to happen.

I heard the front door creak open, then click shut, and I ran to the window in my kitchen so I could watch his car drive away. It hurt to see him pull away from my curb for the last time, but I made myself watch simply to receive the punishment I was due.

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Somehow I endured work the next day, mainly on a numb kind of autopilot. The 3pm end of my shift couldn't come soon enough. As glad as I was to leave the hospital that day, I found being at home was even worse. It was deathly quiet and lifeless—a perfect mirror of what I felt like on the inside.

I piddled around my house and busied myself tidying up the place that afternoon. The passing thought of eating crossed my mind for the first time that day, but there was no way I could stomach food. Around six o'clock, after mindlessly flipping through the entire line up of cable channels six times through, I found myself exiting my home and walking dazedly toward the Sycamore. I settled into my spot on the cool damp ground, seeking the quiet company of my wise old tree.

Solitude wasn't to be mine that night.

"Fancy meeting you here." Esme Masen called out several minutes into my contemplation. Keys in hand, she gripped a small Dillards bag to her chest, most likely containing a tiny bottle of the Estee Lauder foundation she'd worn for years. This was her one and only splurge in life, which actually wasn't a splurge to speak of. "Little chilly to be hanging outside?"

"Hi, Esme." I stood up to greet her with a hug, crunching the bag between us. Yes, it was definitely her makeup. "Never too cold for some Tree time."

She embraced me tightly, placing a kiss on the side of my head. "My sweet, Bella."

Then she pulled away and took in my face. She must have noticed the sadness there at the exact same time I noticed how she looked, because we began to speak at the same moment.

She laughed. "You first."

"No, you," I insisted, curious to understand what I was seeing.

"Okay," she conceded with a giggle, "but let's settle in."

"Sure it's not too cold?"

"Nah, I'm the one wearing a coat." She eyed my sweater and lifted her eyebrows.

I wrapped my cardigan around me tightly. "I'm fine."

We both lowered ourselves to the yellowed grass below us--me in my spot, Esme in Edward's--and I oriented myself toward her. I'm sure I was gawking, but the change in her whole demeanor was astounding.

Replacing the hard worry lines that characterized her countenance was a soft vibrancy I hadn't witnessed in years. Her eyes were bright, almost glowing. She wore a smile—the kind that one might wear if they held a special secret. It was as if a decade had been miraculously shaved off of Esme's appearance since the last time I'd seen her.

"Okay, so I'm just going to say it. Did you get plastic surgery and somehow completely heal from it in under two weeks?" I blurted out.

She giggled again. Twice in under a minute, this woman who simply didn't do such a thing, giggled.

"Seriously though, Ms. M, what's going on?"

"Well, I don't even know where to start," she began excitedly. "After the conversation I had with you a couple of weeks ago, I really started thinking. There I was dispensing this advice to you that I wasn't following myself, which seems a bit hypocritical. I mean all those years ago when Edward's dad left us, I made a new life for us, but I think you and I both know I haven't _really_ lived since then. I've been sort of just…existing from one day to the next. I just couldn't get over what William did to me. It's like it took root and made a home in me and turned me into someone so different."

"I would imagine divorce does that to a lot of people."

She paused for a beat. "I'm pretty sure Edward never told you the real circumstances of the divorce. I mean, he himself just became privy to them in past couple of years."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean everyone thinks William and I broke up because we couldn't get along. _Irreconcilable Differences_, right?" She used air quotes as she spoke the two words in dripping sarcasm. "The truth is, Fran was actually his mistress while I was married to him. The two of them tell the world they met after the divorce, when really, he cheated on me with her for a year before I finally figured it out. All the fighting you and Edward remember going on in our home was really about the affair and how William would say it was over, again and again, but it never really was."

I stared at her in disbelief, unsure of how Edward and I never figured out the truth, and equally unsure why he never told me once he did finally know. "I'm so sorry."

"Bella, the betrayal broke me. It broke me and I have walked around wrecked for all these years."

The hard edge I was accustomed to briefly revisited her face, but only briefly. As she continued on, the brightness reclaimed her. "But I'm done. I am done letting William hurt me over and over. He has lived rent free in my mind for too many years.

"So long story short, I knew I needed to make some changes in my life and I had no idea where to start. A drastic change, like moving or switching jobs terrified me. So I did something very simple. I did something different, for me anyway. I figured even if it was a small insignificant step, it was _something. _And I just had to dosomething_"_

I nodded my head to encourage her to go on.

"I signed up for these do-it-yourself workshops at the hardware store. I've always wanted to be better at home improvement type stuff. Lord knows my poor house could a face-lift. So anyway, I went to my first class two Saturdays ago to learn the nuances of laying tile. I learned how to, well, lay tile, _and_ I made some new friends. I met this marvelous group of women about my age who like to seek out new adventures. In two weeks they're going to a line dancing class and they've invited me along!"

"_That's _why you're…you're absolutely radiant?" I asked her disbelievingly, loathing the fact that _Achy Breaky Heart_ was now on my mind thanks to the mention of line dancing.

"No."

"Well?"

"Step two of the 'get my life back together' plan was to purchase a computer…a laptop to be exact. I've only used one at work all these years, but Edward kept insisting I would enjoy surfing the Internet, and emailing people for personal reasons. So I bought the cutest laptop and I've been emailing old high school friends, connecting with people I'd never take the time to actually phone. It's been an absolute ball!

"And before you ask, that's not why I'm glowing either."

She winked my way and I grinned sheepishly.

"So anyway, on to the good part. I got a call from Carlisle Cullen." Her face became impossibly effervescent as his name rolled off her tongue. "He was looking for Edward's new cell number, so he called me to get it. Carlisle and I got to talking that night, which led to us emailing back and forth the next day, which led to us instant messaging that night, which led to us talking on the phone _every_ night after that for hours on end." Esme took pause, settled her lovely green eyes onto mine, and spoke through a wide smile, "Bella, I think I may be in love."

"Wh—what?"

"In love," she breathed out, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Oh." It was all I could say.

I really wasn't sure what to think. Part of me was lost in her story and her unmistakable glow--as if I was back in junior high being captivated by Alice carrying on about her latest true love.

Part of me felt worried for her. To be proclaiming love after just a couple of weeks felt rash and unrealistic. Despite turning her new leaf, Esme was still vulnerable, and this concerned me greatly.

"Seems a bit fast," I commented quietly, not wanting to be the consummate killjoy.

"I know it is, Bella. I see the skepticism written all over that pretty face of yours, and I can't blame you. I know it sounds ridiculous. I know it sounds naïve even, but somehow the whole thing just makes sense. Have you ever just felt something _deep_ in your gut, and you know it's true even if it doesn't make sense?"

I could only nod in agreement. Could she have any idea just how much sense it made?

"It's just that Esme Masen is thinking with her heart and not her head," she explained. "And for the first time since I can even remember, bitterness isn't swallowing me whole. I have _our _little talk to thank for that," she leaned in and squeezed my hand, "and I have Carlisle to thank too. Bella, he's…he's wonderful, smart, funny, and of course dreamy."

"Did you just say dreamy?"

"Guilty as charged," she beamed.

"You're in deep, Esme."

"I think I am, but in the best possible way!" she practically squealed. "You know, I've known Carlisle since Edward's college graduation. W e've always had a very cordial relationship, but I never really got to sit down and talk to the guy one on one. I never got a chance to really tell him how much his generosity toward us meant to me.

"He's had such an impact on my life, even before I really knew him. He loved my boy, provided so much more than just money for Edward. How could I not fall for a man who would step in and be the father my son never had?"

My heart lurched into my throat. Even with the trail and Colorado so far behind me, I still harbored mixed feelings toward Carlisle. His generosity played a big part in my woes with Edward over the years, and it was quite hard not to connect him to a lot of hurt. Yet hearing Esme rave about him, and seeing how happy he obviously made her, brought to mind the Carlisle I had grown to know and respect. It brought to mind the Carlisle who loved the boy I loved, and helped shape him into the man I still loved.

"I'm just so happy, Bells. It feels like this thing is bigger than me. Like it was set into motion the day Edward met the Cullen's. It's as if it was always meant to play out like this. Carlisle and I both feel that way."

I nodded my head, slowly allowing her story to seep in.

"I promise I'll be careful, Bella. I am fully aware how crazy all this is, and I promise I'll think things through. I want your support in this. I_ need_ your support."

Esme's choice was made, that much was clear to me. She was embarking on unchartered territory, and I decided she didn't need a naysayer pointing out the pitfalls. Esme was practical enough to see those pitfalls on her own. What she needed most was those who loved her backing her up, loving her no matter what.

"Of course you have my support," I conceded. "I'm just protective of you is all."

"And I appreciate that. I'm pretty protective of myself. Did you know that prior to Carlisle I'd been on a sum total of 4 dates in 16 years?"

"You didn't exactly hit the singles scene did you?"

"Hardly," she sniffed. "In all seriousness I want you to know that I can honestly say this is the first time in my whole life where I _know_ my heart is safe. My heart is safe with Carlisle Cullen."

Her earnest green eyes lit up the evening sky. I'd never seen her that resolute--that at peace. I could tell that she wholly believed she was safe with Carlisle. She believed it so fully and sincerely, she was making a believer out of me.

"So…when will you see him in person? The online stuff is great, but it's no replacement for the real thing."

"That's why I was headed over to see you tonight. I leave for Colorado in three days and I wanted you to get my mail if you don't mind."

"Consider it done."

"Oh, Bella, he's flying me in! I get to see how much Grace has changed since I saw it several years ago. We're going to some amazing five-star restaurant, and I get to meet his grandbabies…Emmett and Rose's children, of course!"

"Emma and Mac are precious." As I spoke, I pictured mini-Emmett and mini-Rose. "They'll love you."

"Bella, did you know they call Carlisle _Doc_. Isn't that darling? I can barely stand it!"

I impulsively pulled her into a hug, finding that tears were trailing down my cheeks. They were tears of joy for someone I loved, who deserved the happiness she had finally found. And somehow, though she was moving fast and could potentially be in over her head, the whole thing _did_ make sense.

"I am so happy for you, Esme. I can't tell you how good it is to see you smile and for that smile to actually reach your eyes."

"I'm smiling from my toes all the way to my head, sweet Bella."

"You know you're special, right? From what I've heard Carlisle never dated around. He was never one to just date for the sake of it. He apparently takes it very seriously."

"So he's told me," she agreed coyly.

"Does your son know about all this yet?" I asked casually, literally unable to utter Edward's name.

"Not yet. I mean he knows Carlisle and I talked, but he's not aware that we've _kept _talking. We plan to call him when I'm in Colorado to let him know we're dating. I think he'll be happy for me?"

"I know he will. He's always been so worried about you being alone. I don't think he could've hand picked a better guy for you. In fact, why _didn't_ he hand pick this very guy for you?"

"Edward is many things, Bella…many wonderful things. But if he's anything, he's dense when it comes to all things dating."

My lips twitched into a smile at the same time my stomach wrenched. "You said it."

Esme turned toward me, drawing her knees to her chest. She studied my face for several seconds. "So it's your turn now. Maybe you could start by explaining the sad eyes to me, not to mention the visit to your Tree in this chilly air?"

"Nah. This is a happy time. Let's not spoil it," I insisted. "We can revisit it another day."

"Nonsense, Bells. I can honestly say there's nothing in this world that could spoil what I feel. So spill it. I've got all night and I'll wait that long if I need to."

I hesitated, but her green eyes were insistent. Something told me I wouldn't escape the encounter without being forthright with her.

"Can I give you the Cliff Notes version, because I'm not sure I have it in me to go into detail right now?"

"Absolutely." With that, she gripped my hand in hers, and gave me her full attention.

"So I went to see Edward to get closure."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"And let's just say, I got it." I stopped talking to swallow down the huge lump in my throat.

The edges of Esme's eyes tightened as she scanned my face.

"And I'm no longer engaged to Mike."

She glanced at my empty ring finger. "Bella."

"It was my choice, Esme. I think I realized, or maybe just finally admitted, that I couldn't be with Mike when I felt so much uncertainty."

"I guess I can't say I'm completely surprised," she quietly admitted.

"Maybe I'm not either really. I've probably known all along that I wouldn't end up marrying him. It's about time I got a backbone and did what was right."

"You're being awfully hard on yourself, darling."

"Or not hard enough. Pretending…carrying on as if everything was fine...what I did to Mike was awful and selfish."

"You did the best you could."

"Then my best is pretty pitiful."

"I know you feel horrible right now, Bella. But you have to know that you did the right thing by Mike in letting him go, and you can't get bogged down by regret. Should you have cut him lose sooner--"

"Yes," I interjected forcefully.

Esme gave me _those_ eyes—those motherly eyes of reprimand. "What I was going to say was _probably_. But you navigated the thing the best you knew how. End of story."

"It doesn't feel that simple."

"Relationships never are, sweetheart. But what I know is marriage is hard enough. Beginning one with such hesitance, with any reservations, is not a wise thing. It wouldn't have been fair to either of you. You did the right thing."

"I think I know that, but I still feel like such a heel. I never should have accepted that ring from him. I probably shouldn't have even started dating him. My heart was in no shape to let him in."

I didn't expound on that notion, but Esme's knowing glance told me she was privy to why my heart hadn't been ready.

"This closure you got with Edward," she began tentatively, "would you call it a good thing or a bad thing?"

My conversation with Edward played through my mind like a movie. The hurt, the devastation, his words that sealed our fate, came over me with a vengeance.

"I think I'd call it bad." A sob escaped my throat and my eyes swam with sudden, stinging tears.

"Oh sweetie." Her grip on my hand tightened.

"I can't believe I'm going to admit this, but I'm more heartbroken over my talk with Edward than I am over Mike. That's pretty twisted, right?" I choked out.

"Or pretty honest," Esme added softly.

"Have you ever seen a more pathetic human being?" I hurriedly used the back of my free hand to swipe away the moisture from my cheeks.

"Yep. In the mirror for the past twenty years," she shot right back. "You _aren't_ pathetic, Bella Swan. And even though you feel like you are drowning right now, you _will_ make it through this."

"How exactly will I make it through this? How will I get over this…this hurt?" I asked her, purposefully cryptic.

"You just will," she replied definitively. "You just will, because you are a strong woman. You've been through worse, and you'll get through this too."

She was right. I had been through worse, but at my side for almost every devastation in my 27 years had been a green-eyed boy, who somehow always kept me going.

It wouldn't be so this time.

My tears came faster and I allowed them to spill over with abandon. She pulled me toward her and her shoulder became my much-needed refuge. She didn't press me for details about my encounter with Edward, though she knew there were many. She didn't offer trite words of sympathy with empty promises. She didn't try to help me sort it out or come up with ways to fix it. She just let me cry.

I let down my guard with no consideration to the passage of time, and without worrying if it was inappropriate to seek comfort from the mother of he who caused my tears. I unreservedly sobbed, letting every feeling that had been pent up inside flow from me and into the care of someone I trusted and loved.

She spoke soothing words into my ear. Words that not only provided great comfort, but also granted me permission to keep crying. I relished being reassured and calmed--being mothered. It had been so very long since anyone had nurtured me in that way.

I only pulled away from my comforter once my tears no longer required release.

"Thank you," I whispered as I wiped my nose and eyes with my sweater sleeve, just as a child would. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what I needed, though I wouldn't have known to ask for it."

"It was my pleasure. It's about time I actually did that for you. Better late than never."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she didn't let me finish. "And should you need another good cry, which you likely will, you know where to find me." Her eyes peered into mine, communicating her earnestness.

"I do."

She laid a hand on either side of my face and smiled gently. "I'm going to play mom right now, okay? And I want you to listen to me."

I nodded in acquiescence.

"I want you to go home and put on some jammies. And I want you to cuddle up on that big red couch of yours and just exhale. Maybe pull out a favorite book. Just lose yourself for a while. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I can."

"And I will check on you tomorrow. If you're up to it, I'll bring over some dinner and we can just hang out?"

"That sounds nice."

"And if you should want to talk about…the _hurt_, I am always here. I understand that I may not be the appropriate person to talk about it with; that I may be too close to…the situation," she added with care, "but please know I'm willing."

"I know that Esme, and I'm thankful for you," I whispered.

As I pondered her offer, I knew with full certainty that Esme understood everything I hadn't forthrightly told her. I hadn't told her Edward rejected me, but she knew it. I hadn't told her I still loved her son with every ounce of my being, but she was well aware. I hadn't come out and said that Edward was the reason I couldn't marry Mike, but she knew that too. Yet in true Esme Masen style, she stayed out of mine and Edward's business, simply offering to help, but not forcing her way in.

"Do you think you can promise me something, my sweet Bella?"

"I'll try?"

"Take it one step at a time. All you can do right now is to put one foot in front of the other. Especially in matters of the heart, anything more will overwhelm you. Promise me you'll just take it one step at a time?"

I gave her a half smile and stood up to head back to my lonely house. "One step at a time it is."

"And one more thing?"

I looked down at her and her eyes immediately locked onto mine, intense--almost pleading. "Don't give up. Don't lose hope."

It was quiet for several beats. Esme's beseeching gaze never shifted from mine.

"I won't," I finally whispered, even though I wasn't exactly sure what I was agreeing not to give up on.

Her eyes softened at once.

As I took that first step away from Our Tree and Esme's precious comfort, I realized what a hard road was ahead of me. I certainly wasn't unacquainted with struggle, and if anything, I was pretty skilled at enduring. Yet this particular road was different, harder. I felt it in my bones this time. I couldn't make Edward love me, and the time had come for me to figure out a life that didn't revolve around him.

I took another couple of steps when Esme's words from minutes before echoed in my mind. _I knew I needed to make some changes in my life and I had no idea where to start. I had to do something. _

"Mrs. M?" I turned back toward her.

"Yes, sweetheart." She remained in her spot, clutching her little shopping bag, just watching me walk with a sad tilt to her head.

"So you're an expert tile layer now?"

She straightened up a bit, and laughed lightly. "Expert, no. I may _kind of_ know what I'm doing. I'm afraid I paid more attention to making friends than I did to the instruction."

"Well that'll have to do, because I have a peach bathroom that's screaming to be redone. And suddenly the idea of doing some back breaking demolition sounds quite appealing."

Even with several feet between us, I saw her eyes twinkle. "That's my girl."

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**next chapter is written and with my awesome beta...I'm not big on spoilers, but lets just say you won't want to miss it**


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU, all human.**

THANKS TO MY BETA, KLARSEN18, who endured last minute changes like a champ! And thanks to those of you who dropped me a review. My FF traffic report was down for 11 days... i treasured your reviews b/c it was the only way I knew anyone was reading! :)

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**This chapt takes place o****ne year since B broke up with E. It's Senior Year of college...**

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**Chapter 23:**** Every Road (Senior Year of College) January 1996**

"You do know this is our four month anniversary of sorts?" Jake asked as he leaned up against my truck.

"I guess I do now," I laughed.

"Four months ago tonight I took you to that formal in your pretty pink dress. I'll never forget it," he smiled widely.

"That was a fun night."

"That was a _great_ night."

"Shockingly, engineers know how to throw a party."

"It was great for a lot reasons, Bella."

"I suppose it was." I agreed, as my ears flushed warm.

"You _know_ it was." He cocked one eyebrow into a high arch.

I grinned at him shyly. He grinned back and winked.

Then he looked down at his watch with a grimace. "Dude, I gotta leave for the airport in like three minutes."

"Its already that time?"

"Are you sure you can't come with me?"

"You know I can't, Jake."

"Let's call a last minute audible and see if we can get you on my flight."

"There's no way."

"There's always a way, Bella."

"I've got three shifts at Twilight this weekend and two practicals to study for. Plus, I can't afford airfare to Washington. Like I said, there's no way."

"Come on, Bella," he begged with puppy dog eyes, and a slight pout. "I just want to show you off to everyone at the res."

"I'm not a show pony."

"But you _are_ my trophy girlfriend." He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

Inwardly, I winced at the word _girlfriend_. Jake was much more liberal than I about such things. As for me, I refused to give what I was to him a label of any kind.

"Can't say I've ever thought of myself as a trophy anything."

"You totally are. I'm just trying to figure out how to get you to wear low cut tops and short skirts. Then you'll really play the part." A mischievous grin spread across his face.

To that I responded with a jab to his shoulder…which likely hurt my hand far worse than it hurt his steely body. Clearly stifling a laugh, he looked down at his shoulder where I'd hit it. Then he ruffled my hair, leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

"So are you still heading to your dad's after work?"

"Yeah. Lucky me."

Dread washed over me. It had been about a month since I'd gone over and spent any length of time with Charlie and Sue. Sue had called and all but insisted I come over for dinner. I decide to bite the bullet and just get it over with.

"Aw come on, Bella. It won't be that bad."

"It would be easier if you were coming with me."

"I'll come next time. I promise. Look on the bright side, Sue rocks in the kitchen. If anything, you'll leave with a full stomach."

"Which is all important in the world of Jake Black."

"Exactly," he shrugged. "But seriously, Bella, Sue can be pretty great. I know it's hard, but you ought to give her a chance."

"I know that, and I'll try," I answered him quietly, recognizing that familiar pang of guilt I always got when I spoke to Jake about his aunt—whom he loved and whom I still called live in whore behind his back. When it came to Sue, we weren't exactly on the same page…heck we weren't even in the same book.

Glancing at his watch once more, Jake huffed. "I really have to go or I'll miss my flight."

"Then get your bad self to the airport, Mr. Black." I jibed him, looking at my own watch to make sure I had plenty of time to get to the coffee shop.

"This is the part I hate. Goodbyes suck."

"I'm pretty sure we haven't ever had to actually say goodbye in," then I paused just to goad him, "how long did you say it's been?"

"_Four _months, thank you."

"Ooooh yeah, that's right."

Jake narrowed his eyes at me in mock frustration.

I reached up, on my tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his neck—my version of an apology for mocking him. A smiled crept across his face as his cheeks flushed.

"I'd say we're pretty darn lucky that we haven't had to say a good bye in four whole months," I added brightly.

"You're right, but as far as I'm concerned, one goodbye is one too many."

He leaned down to the ground and grabbed his tattered black duffle that he loved so much. He slung it over it one shoulder.

"You're probably right, Jake." I conceded lightly. I couldn't help but think if Edward and I had lived by that particular belief, we might still be together.

Certainly I shouldn't have been thinking such a thing four months into a relationship with a guy who adored me; who couldn't stand the thought of being away from me for five measly days. Yet, I simply couldn't help it. Edward crossed my mind often. It never ceased to amaze me how many innocuous, mundane things triggered thoughts of him.

"So I hope your night goes better than you think it will." Jake's voice broke through my silence.

"Um, yeah, me too."

"Just sit back and let Sue do all the talking. She's pretty good at that."

"She is, isn't she?"

"She grew up in a house with my dad and grandpa Eph...both strong silent types. She always did all the talking. She knows no other way."

"I know a thing or two about silent types too." I added quietly, picturing Charlie's ever sullen countenance.

Jake gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and leaned in to place a kiss to my forehead.

"I'll be back Tuesday night, my sweet Bella. I'll call you, okay? Maybe we can grab some dinner?"

"Sounds nice."

Jake set his warm brown eyes on mine. "_Man_, I really wish you were coming. My family would love you."

"And I'd love them too. Maybe I can make the trip when you go again?"

"I won't take no for answer next time."

"Consider it noted," I replied with a firm nod. "You go and have fun with your friends, Jake. And tell Grandpa Ephraim I said Happy Birthday."

"He's ninety five. I'll tell him but I can't promise you he'll hear me."

"It's the thought that counts anyway." I grinned, loving how Jake could make absolutely anything light and humorous.

He hoisted his duffle onto the back of his motorcycle, and cinched it down. Then he turned to me and grabbed my hand.

"I can give you a ride, you know," I offered.

"I know you can, but it would make you late to work. There's no sense in that. Besides, you know I love riding my bike."

"Right. The whole open road, wind in your hair thing."

"Something like that," he answered me through a laugh.

He pulled me to him, and it felt like my body was colliding with a rock wall.

"I'll miss you. It'll be a long five days."

"I'll miss you too, Jake."

He placed his hand on my face, cupping it gently. "I love you, Bella."

"Thank you," I replied softly, looking down. The last thing I could do in that moment was look into his open, vulnerable eyes.

He always said _I love you_. I never said it back. In four months of dating I'd never said it to him, and Jake had never questioned it. I found his easy acceptance of it odd, but was overly grateful for that particular oddity. It made things uncomplicated, which was the very hallmark of my entire relationship with him.

Jake used a finger to tilt my face up and he placed a soft kiss on my lips, then another on my cheek. "You're everything to me. Do you know that?"

The only answer I could supply was a nod of my head.

It must have been enough for him, because for several beats he looked down at me with shining, adoring eyes. It was that exact look—a look he always had for me-that made me wish so badly I could feel for him the way he felt for me.

He deserved a girl that would love to call herself his girlfriend, and would die to know she was his everything. A girl who would gladly scream _I love you_ from the mountaintops. A girl that would rearrange her schedule and move heaven and earth to find the money, if it meant meeting his family. Jake deserved so much more, yet he settled for me. I'd never understand why.

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I found myself sitting at the dinner table later that night, staring at a tacky Navajo print table runner. It's printed pattern made my head swim, but I preferred to stare at it than make eye contact with my glowering father. He was very quiet, even more than usual, and it didn't seem to be a drunken silence; though he was most certainly buzzed. Sue, on the other hand, was in overcompensation mode.

"So, Bella, did you get enough to eat, because I can get you another helping." Her pink lips moved a mile a minute. "In fact, I have a lot left over. I'll pack it up and you can take some back to your apartment. Do you think Alice would like some?"

"Thanks, Sue. I'm actually full. But Alice would love some. She lives off Hot Pockets and generic Cola. Your food will be like a luxury."

"Super." She grinned, looking sincerely pleased. Sometimes Sue made it hard for me to hate her.

"I need to get back home and squeeze some study time in," I announced, feeling fifty-eight minutes was more than ample time there. I placed my napkin on the table and began to slide out of my chair.

"Charlie, don't you think you should talk to Bella? Tell her why we asked her here tonight?" Sue piped in loudly, her voice shaky with nerves.

"Let me guess. You two are finally going to tie the knot?" I chimed in, attempting to be funny. When I was met with two very wooden faces, I settled back into my chair, crossing my arms in front of me protectively.

"Not quite," my dad sniffed, and then he finished off his glass of Jack and coke, wiping his hand across his mouth once he'd drained the liquid.

"Then what is it?" I questioned him a bit impatiently.

He just stared at me blankly. In that moment it amazed me that I felt no connection to the man. He was simply a shell of the father I once knew. He looked like the man that had raised me; a man with life in his eyes and purpose in his step. Yet he had turned into someone altogether different. Someone who merely existed for the sake of existing, and whose best friend was a bottle named Jack.

"Come on, Charlie. Bella deserves to know." Sue rubbed his shoulder up and down in a soothing motion that sickened me.

He just continued to stare at me with those lifeless eyes.

"Will someone just tell me what it is already?"

"You have to do this," Sue murmured into his ear.

Still nothing. Just the vacant stare. Minutes passed and I felt my ears go hot and my heart pound heavily in my chest.

"Well," I stood up abruptly, appalled that my own dad was having to be literally coaxed to speak to me, "it's been real, but I've gotta go. Sue, thanks for dinner."

I turned on my heels and headed out of the dining room.

"I'm sick," Charlie finally blurted out, stopping me dead in my tracks.

The first thing I thought to myself was, "_As If I didn't know that already." _Though tempted to, I didn't articulate my thought out loud. "With what?"

"Can you…can you just sit down for a minute?" he asked me weakly.

"Fine." I made my way back to the table and sat down across from him. I was rigid in my chair, wanting him to know I was on my way out.

His eyes, no longer eerily void, found mine again. All I could see in them at that point was fear. "Bella, I haven't been well—had a nagging cough and fatigue for while. Sue has tried to get me to go for a check up for months, but I'd never go. Didn't need another uptight doctor making moral judgments about my lifestyle."

I stifled an eye roll.

"So anyway, when I started coughing up blood, I finally went in."

My stomach dropped when I heard the word blood. "Dad," I gasped.

"Bella, I have cancer. Lung cancer. They're calling it stage 4. It's already spread all over. My liver, brain, even my bones." Sue gripped his arm tightly, as if for dear life. Her heavily made up eyes were pooling with tears.

"How can this be?" I finally cried out. "How can you already be stage 4?"

"Told you. I didn't go in when I should have," he answered me emotionless.

"Still. You don't even look sick." _Or any sicker than usual, _I thought, as I took in his usual sallow complexion, ruddy nose and heavily lined face.

With his glass in hand, he stood up and walked over to a built-in wet bar on the far wall. He skillfully poured himself another Jack and coke.

"They say I don't have long."

"H-how long is not long?"

He and Sue exchanged glances. He took a big pull from his glass, leaving Sue to answer me.

"Sweetie, he has six months to a year."

My mouth opened to make an utterance, but nothing came out. I felt Sue's soft thin skin come in contact with mine from across the table, as she rubbed my hand with her thumb. Something about her gesture helped me find my voice.

"What about treatment?"

"The tumors in the lung can't be resected, because they're too close to his trachea. They'll give him chemo and radiation and keep him as comfortable as possible." Sue's voice was quiet. "But even with treatment, it doesn't look good."

She wiped her eyes with her two forefingers and sniffled several times. I watched my dad, who had never cared to comfort me in my tears, hurry to her side and put a heavy arm around her shoulder. He drew her closely to him, and I hated him for it-while hating myself for feeling that way about a dying man and his bereaved girlfriend. The whole thing was so very messed up.

I cleared my throat, searching for words. "I'm…I'm really sorry dad. I'll, um, I'll do whatever I can to help you." I rose from the table, realizing my hands were trembling. I grabbed the lip of the table to stabilize them.

"Ironic isn't it?" My dad mumbled under his breath. His words were muffled yet his eyes were laser lights on mine.

"Wh...What's ironic?"

"You probably thought _this_ would kill me?" He motioned to his glass he was clutching tightly. "It was always the source of all evil, right, Bella? The reason why I was such a _failure_ to you as a parent." There was malice in his tone that I didn't understand.

Unable to find words once more, my mouth just remained agape. My legs became jello and I sought out my chair once more simply out of necessity.

Sue, the live-in whore who I had loathed for years, became my unlikely ally. "You don't mean that, Charlie. You're not being fair."

Ignoring her, he leveled me with his eyes once more. The cold vacancy was back with a vengeance. He opened his mouth to speak, his gaze never wavering from mine. It was like he had wanted to hurt me, and he relished knowing he'd succeeded. In an jarringly flat, impassive voice, he offered, "Who ever said life was fair?"

With that, he once again drained his glass of the amber brown concoction I'd lived to hate, never letting go of my eyes with his spiteful gaze. Slamming the glass down to the table, he squeezed Sue's shoulder and then walked out of the dining room. I heard the television flip on in the next room and the familiar chords of canned laughter from some sitcom floated in from where he sat. Sue just stared at me with tear-filled heartrending eyes, her bottom lip quaking.

I'm not sure how I made my way out of that dining room on rubber legs. I don't remember leaving his house that night, though I'm guessing Sue must have had something to do with it, as there was a tell-tale flamingo pink crescent on my cheek. I don't remember the drive back to my apartment either. All I do remember is running to my bedroom and grabbing my phone with urgency. My hands shook so violently I was barely able to dial the number, but somehow I managed.

After three rings he answered and it was only then that I felt capable of breathing again.

"I…I need you." It was all I could get out through my sobs. Apparently it was enough, because he said he'd do his best to get to me as soon as possible.

I spent the rest of the night crying into my pillow. It had been so long since I'd done that, but I found that I still knew how to do it with the best of them. The tears came forth, seemingly unending, and soon my eyes were swollen and my head was tight and cloudy. I was in a haze of anxiety that my dad was dying, and even so, would choose to purposefully hurt me. It felt as though he was somehow blaming me that cancer had found him. It made no sense to me, yet at the same time, ugly as it was, it made perfect sense.

I had made so much progress in the years prior, not letting my dad's apathy hurt me. I could remain aloof with him, keeping just enough distance that he had no power to annihilate me with his disinterest. Yet that night, the progress was for naught. It was as if I was once again that little girl, reeling from the death of her mother. But instead of just having a dad who couldn't bring himself to care, I had a father who despised me. Suddenly, the apathy that had grieved me for so many years, actually seemed preferable.

Unable to keep my eyes dry for more than minutes at a time, I stayed up all night and when morning came I ended up skipping my classes. The day crept along as I sat in my dark apartment. Alice had chosen that day of all days to shack up with a guy she'd met at her job at the rental car place. She hadn't even checked in with me. I knew she wouldn't have said the right things or been a comfort in the traditional sense, but she would have at least held me, and that would have been enough. Because as it was, I felt like I might be falling apart.

My thoughts were all over the place, leaving me to feel afflicted with some kind of mental illness. I would envision my dad's frigid glare and callused words, and my blood would boil. In the next instant, I'd picture him frail and near the end on his deathbed, and I'd break out into a cold, grief-stricken sweat. Both mental pictures did their damage in different ways, yet both completely leveling me emotionally.

When I didn't think I could take my own thoughts for one more minute, I finally heard a knock at my door. My heart leapt with joy and then instantly lodged in my throat. I had called him and wanted him to come to me. I had hoped against hope that he would come. But I didn't know if he actually would, and I certainly hadn't the right to ask it of him.

I hastily unlocked my door, yet opened it very slowly, even then not sure if I'd see who I longed to behold on the other side.

"Hey," I squeaked out, as my eyes took him in. "You came."

"Of course I came."

"I promise to pay you back for your plane ticket."

"I wouldn't hear of it."

A fresh wave of tears streamed down my cheeks, and I didn't even bother to wipe them away. I simply lunged toward him and buried my face in his chest. Then I turned my head and nestled my ear over his heart, so I could hear the one thing I knew would bring me the relief I needed.

The gentle thump-thump cadence, consistent and strong, lulled me into a calm. I inhaled deeply, searching for his scent, letting it sweep over me as if some kind of spell. Then I looked up and found my true north-his shining emerald eyes gazing at me with concern.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't want to come."

"As if I could ever _not_ be here for you, Little Bit."

"You owe me nothing."

"I know that. I want to be here."

"Edward, I'm still with Jake."

I could see his throat bob in a concerted swallow. "Not right this moment you aren't."

"I didn't want to string you along or send mixed signals. But there was no one, _no one_ else I wanted. You're who I need…who I want right now."

His eyes softened, as he surveyed my face. I too, inspected every curve and line of his beautiful chiseled countenance; one I hadn't looked upon in that way in so very long. He looked a bit older, and if possible, even more handsome than I remembered.

"I've missed your eyes, Bells. Milk chocolate. Perfect," he murmured.

"I've missed yours too." I whispered, aching deep down with the truth of it.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

He followed me into my apartment.

"So I didn't get much out of you on the phone last night," he began, as he sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs in front of him. His jeans were worn and tattered and he sported the same old mangy hiking boots. All of it brought me immense comfort.

"Sorry about that," I managed, as I thirstily and unashamedly drunk him in with my eyes. Everything about him was immediately so familiar, yet not, at the same time. I wondered how it could have really been a year since we'd been face to face. I wondered how I'd made it that long without him. Because looking at him and having him so near, I realized how desperately I'd missed the boy next door.

"So what's going on? If I was a betting man I'd say it must have something to do with your dad."

I curled up next him and molded myself to the side of his body. Instantly I no longer felt as if I would come apart. I found the strength to recap the previous nights events. Edward held my hand in his the entire time, rubbing feathery light circles on my palm. He nodded his head when appropriate. He said yep and yes at the right times. And his body tensed when I spoke of my dad's treatment of me. But for the most part, he was just a quiet, attentive listener.

"So, after my dad was so horrible to me, I pretty much left. Don't remember much after that except crying my eyes out and calling you."

"I'm so sorry, Bells," he murmured. He mindlessly twirled a piece of my hair in between two fingers, just as he'd always done. "Just when you thought he couldn't hurt you more, he manages to, huh? And in a whole new way this time."

"Exactly. And now that he's sick, I have no clue how to handle it all. Part of me thinks I should just take his crap and deal with it. I mean his days are numbered. But another part of me doesn't want to put myself in his line of fire again, no matter what."

"No one would blame you if you chose not to."

"But could I live with myself?"

"I can't answer that for you, but my guess is no."

"I know. I'm just confused, and I'm so sad. No matter what he's done, I still love him. And even if I can't stand the guy, I don't want him to die."

"Can't live with him."

"Can't shoot him," I finished it for him.

My mouth quirked into a quick smile, and it felt good. I squeezed Edward's hand in appreciation for even the briefest of levity.

"All I know, Bells, is that your dad is missing something."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's lacking something on the inside. That…that thing that makes you press forward and do what's right. That thing that makes you put others before yourself. I mean I know he loves you. At least in the best way he knows how, but what he can give you is limited or something. It will never be the way it should be, which really sucks for you." Then he paused and raked his hand through his hair several times. "I guess what I'm trying to say, is it's not about you. It never has been. It's about Charlie."

"Isn't that what boys always say when they're breaking up with a girl?"

"What I mean," he continued on, "is that he could've have had a whole different daughter, or a son for that matter, and he would've treated them the same way he treats you. He just doesn't have it in him, and that has _nothing_ to do with you being worth it or good enough."

I bit my lip, squeezing back another onslaught of tears. "No matter how I look at it, it's…it's hard to not take it personally."

"I know it is, but you can't. Or you have to try not to anyway. It's the only way for you to be around the man without letting him destroy you every time you see him."

"I don't know how to not let him destroy me. He's just so good at it."

"He does have skills," Edward sniffed.

"And when someone who is supposed to love me and protect me, hurts me the way he hurts me, it's impossible to not to take it personally."

"And you have every right to feel that way, Bells. All I'm saying, is that if you want to make things work, you're going to have to try to let it bounce off you. Otherwise he's likely to reduce you to a mess of tears every time." Then his face hardened and I saw him work his jaw muscle beneath his skin. "And I can't stand by and let him do that to you."

"It's all so much easier said than done. I swear I get in the same room with that man, and my backbone disintegrates. I turn into this lost, sad fifteen year old who is completely at his mercy. He can kill me without even saying one word."

"I know he can, and I'm so tired of him hurting you."

Edward pulled me to him, and I landed in my spot on his chest, as if that's where I rested my head everyday.

"Did I tell you I've missed you?" I sighed out.

"I believe you did." I wasn't looking at him, yet I could hear the smile in his voice. "But I could hear it a thousand times and never get sick of it."

"I've missed you," I murmured again. I felt his arms grip me tighter.

"Thank you, Edward. Thank you for being here and thank you for just knowing…me."

"I should be thanking you."

"For interrupting your life and asking you to buy a ridiculously expensive plane ticket?"

"For calling _me._ I know you had…you had other options." His tone was evasive.

"Not really." I lifted my head and found his eyes. "There was no other option."

He shut his eyes and exhaled loudly. "Why me? Why am I here right now? Why not him?"

"I know how confusing this must be for you," I began, scared by the surge of emotion that accompanied my words. "That I'm with another guy, but I called you and not him. You must feel used. You must be so frustrated with me."

"Maybe I _should _be frustrated but I just can't be. That's impossible, because I am getting to see your face, your eyes…I'm hearing your voice." Edward closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced. "And in all fairness, you told me what you needed from me a year ago and I didn't give it to you. I left you here after you begged me to come home. He was your friend when you needed one and nature took its course. I…I can't blame you for being with him."

He was trying to be diplomatic and fair, that much I could tell. His jaw was clenched and his features tight and his hands repetitively tugged at that crazy hair. He was struggling, and every physical part of him let me know his words didn't match his feelings.

"Edward, I didn't rush into his arms. You have to know that. It took over eight months for it to happen. And even now…," my voice trailed off.

"Even now what?"

I took pause, unsure if I should say what I knew was on the tip of my tongue. His expectant gaze overcame me, and the words tumbled out of my mouth on their own accord. "Even now, I'm not really his. My heart's not really in it."

Edward's forehead furrowed and he studied me evenly with those heavenly eyes.

"And it all comes down to one thing,"I began slowly. "I'm not over you."

His face softened, and his full lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. Gently but with intention he placed his hand on the back of my neck. I allowed myself to lean into his grip. I closed my eyes and savored the warmth of his hand so near.

"Bella." It was half statement, half question.

"I know I shouldn't be saying this to you. I know I shouldn't have drawn you back in and that any way you look at it this isn't right, but I can't help it. When my dad told me his news, when he came down on me, I couldn't call you fast enough. If I'm being honest, Jake didn't even cross my mind."

"I'm so glad you called me." He placed his hands on either side of my face. "But don't confuse your need for your old friend who is familiar with your situation, with something else. Don't you think it makes sense for me to be the one you want around when it comes to your dad's crap?"

"I don't think of you as an old friend. You're…you're my Edward. And I'm not confused about anything."

"Bella, you just found out your dad is dying. He treated you the worst he ever has. Your emotions are all over the place. I just don't want you to say or do anything you'll regret."

"I appreciate that, but I assure you that as upset as I am, I feel surprisingly clear headed."

"You know that when Jake finds out I'm here, that won't bode well for you two."

I pictured Jake's smile, his warm dancing eyes, the joy he brought to my life. Everything about him was comfort to me. Yet the most I could feel toward him was an intense fondness, an attachment born of necessity, and a gratitude that words couldn't convey.

Before me sat the one who called to me. The one who I craved and longed to get lost in. His eyes were my home, his arms my safe harbor. He was the other half of me, and without him I walked around incomplete, fractured. Everyday I wanted to be whole, but that night I needed to be.

"I know that. I'm pretty sure when I called you last night—even when I was such an emotional wreck-I knew the implications it would have on Jake and me."

I paused and thought for just a moment about my choice to call on Edward—about how incredibly hurt Jake would be when he found out what I'd done. I hated the thought of inflicting pain on my loyal friend, but despite that, I couldn't bring myself to lament my actions. "I knew what it would do to Jake and I did it anyway. I have no regrets."

Edward took in what I said, and acknowledged me a concerted swallow and quick nod of his head.

"Its just that sometimes I wonder if I wanted to be around Jake for all the wrong reasons. Reasons not worthy of basing a relationship on. He was my friend, a good, good friend to me. That's all I ever really wanted him to be. But it's like one day that wasn't enough for him, and before I knew it we'd become something more."

Edward winced.

"It just…it just happened. I was never really comfortable with it."

"Then why?" His voice was almost a whisper. "Why did you let it go on?"

"He's like an escape for me. He made me smile during a very hard time, and being around him made it easier for me to stay the course, and I _had_ to stay the course."

"And what course would that be?"

"Staying away from you."

"No one made you choose that particular course, you know."

"I do know that. I only did what I thought was best for both of us."

"Was it best?" Edward asked, telling me with his plaintive eyes what his answer to that question was.

I shook my head back and forth slowly. "Staying away from you is the hardest thing I've ever done, Edward."

"Then don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't stay away from me anymore."

"I broke up with you, Edward. I've been with someone else. How can it not be too late for that?"

"You're not too late." One side of his mouth crept into that crooked grin I coveted. "With you, it's never too late."

"How…," I paused, scanning his face with my eyes. He was resolute, certain. "You're sure?"

"Never been so sure." His green eyes were solemn, serious. "But what about…," his velvety voice trailed off. "What are you going to do about _him_? I won't share you. And this can't be a one time thing for me, Bella."

"It's not Edward. It couldn't be that for me either." I clamped my eyes shut and breathed in and out deeply, aching in the reality of what I must do. "I'll talk to Jake when he gets back from Washington. It's something I've needed to do for a while now. It's never been what it's supposed to be for us. I could never be what he wants me to be…what he deserves for me to be. I've known it all along. I...I belong with you."

Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. Uncertainty was replaced by relief. "_You're_ sure?"

Borrowing his line, I whispered in earnest, "never been so sure. I love you with everything that I am, Edward, and the past year hasn't changed that. Anything that I've done doesn't change that. I can't stay away from you ever again. I want…" I paused and inhaled deeply, "I want _you_."

He said nothing else, but his eyes shone intensely_, _making my heart quicken.

I stood up from the couch and walked to the front door. My eyes were trained on Edward's gaze and I saw his expression fall. Quickly, I turned the lock. His eyes became bright again in realization of what I was doing. I smiled at him and slowly made my way back to the couch, where I sat down on his lap and buried my face in his neck. He received me in his arms, and held me firmly, yet preciously.

I fully understood that what I was about to do would completely wreck any future I had with Jake. And I understood that even though the love of my life was on my couch, attentive and doting, he wouldn't always be. The trail and his free ride would beckon him back and soon I'd be left alone again. I understood all of those ramifications with 100% clarity, and with a gut level certainty, my lips crashed into Edward's anyway. He met them with an urgency of his own. It took all of two seconds for the year that stood between us to simply vanish.

We were _us_ again.

_Home. Safe. Love. Complete_. Such notions swam in my mind as I found comfort in his lips, his arms, his touch. The solace I found there didn't make my pain go away. It didn't make me forget my dad's cold stare and hurtful words, or even the death sentence that awaited him. Edward simply did what he'd always been able to do. He kept me together when everything around me was falling apart.

"I need you," I whispered into his lips, between kisses.

"I'm here, Bella," he breathed out, placing his hand on the back of my head. Fervently, he tangled his fingers in my hair.

I gripped his t-shirt, using it to pull him closer, feeling a deep compulsion for every part of me to meet every part of him. "I need you, Edward."

"You have me, silly girl." His lips grazed my ear, and with warm breath he said it again, "You have me."

This time I pulled away from him and commanded his eyes. I looked deeply into his smoldering, ardent gaze. "_I need you_," I murmured pleadingly once more, "all of you."

His eyes widened just slightly. He licked his lips and his chest rose and fell slowly, concertedly.

Resolutely, I unwrapped myself from him and stood from the couch, never severing the connection between brown and green. I offered my hand to him—knowing I was offering him so much more-and looked toward my bedroom.

For several seconds Edward remained where he sat, looking up at me from under his lashes. His eyes, which had been warm and amorous, clouded over with certain confliction.

"Bella," he sighed out, clearly troubled.

"Wh—what is it?" Panic began to well up within.

His scanned my face and immediately jumped up from the sofa. He came to me and placed his hands on either side of my waist.

"Oh Bella, I want you…I want all of you too."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he murmured, as he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. "This is perfect. _You're_ perfect."

"Then why are we not in my bedroom right now?"

"You had one of the worst nights of your life. You haven't slept or eaten. You're completely spent, Bella."

"None of that matters."

"I think it does." He paused and raked his hair several times. "Plus, I saw you…," his voice trailed off, and he clamped his eyes shut.

"You saw me what, Edward?"

His face twisted into anguish. "I saw the shape you were in after Riley. You were brave about all that, but I saw the…the _pain_ in your eyes. I'll never forget that."

My stomach dropped at the mention of that name—one I hadn't given even a single thought to in years. That name—that dark time of my life-simply didn't belong there with us.

"We shouldn't rush into anything, Bells. You don't need anymore regret."

"This is _nothing_ like Riley. How can you think I'd regret being with you? You are the love of my life—my whole life."

"Which is exactly why we should wait." Edward looked down at the ground and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Then he settled his gaze back on me. "As much as I want you, and _believe me_ I do—I can't let this happen tonight."

"Edward." It came out as a plea.

He placed his hand on the back of my neck, and began rubbing feather light circles with his fingers and thumb. "Please trust me on this, Bella."

I looked down, my eyes swimming with tears. "You don't believe in _us, _do you? You don't think we'll last."

"No, that's not it. You couldn't be more wrong." His eyes were wide with alarm.

"Am I wrong, though?"

"You want to know what I honestly think? Why I'm crazy enough to be saying no to something I want so much?"

I bit my bottom lip and nodded my head, averting my eyes from his.

"I think we have the rest of our lives to get this right, and I _promise_ you we will. It_ has_ to be right and tonight it's just…it's just not. And if you stop and think about it, I know you'll agree with me."

I felt the gravity of his gaze, and my eyes—seemingly on their own volition-lifted up to meet his.

"I love you too much, Bella, to let you settle for anything less than you deserve." His stare burned with devotion. So intense was his focus on me, my stomach flipped and my heart raced a mile a minute.

Completely rapt by what I found in his eyes, I was instantly reminded that I could trust him with my life, with my heart, with my everything. That I'd be foolish not to consider his level headed perspective, at a time when mine was anything but.

Ever my protector, Edward took the hard road simply out of concern for me. And even though I didn't really agree with him that night, I knew that I would look back and be grateful for his restraint. I wouldn't want our first time to be attached in any way to what I'd been through with Charlie. The anger, the pain would have only marred it.

"Thank you, Edward," I softly conceded.

I started to look down once more, but he wouldn't allow it. He bent his lanky frame down so that our eyes were level and then he took my hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.

"This is yours," he murmured in a voice thick with emotion. "Don't ever doubt it."

"You have mine too," I replied softly, "always have."

"I love you so, so much, Bella Swan." He pulled my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into my palm. "I will take care of you and I'll always do right by you."

Taking in his earnest eyes, I asked him quietly, "You really mean that, don't you?"

"With all that I am. Forever and a day, Bella."

His words were music to me, surrounding me with the comfort and fullness I craved. I leaned into him resting my head on his chest, and allowed his arms to envelope me.

"I'll never get sick of hearing that from you, Edward."

"I'll never get sick of saying that _to_ you, Bella."

I peered up at him, and noticed a tear trailing down one side of his face. I used my fingertips to wipe it away right as another one sprung forth from the other eye.

My eyes quirked with concern.

"I'm just so happy, Bells, and I never thought I was going to feel like this again," he whispered. "I'm _really _happy and not just that pretend crap that I put on so my mom or Carlisle won't send me to therapy or something like that.

"We wouldn't want that would we?" I replied, as I tried to picture a fidgety Edward feverishly tugging at his hair as some psychoanalyst coaxed him to "dig deep" and "go there."

"No, we wouldn't." His mouth cocked into a beloved lopsided grin.

Reaching up, I swept a piece of his unruly hair off of his forehead, only for it to fall right back into disarray. My mouth twitched into a smile.

"My hair is a hopeless cause, Bella. You should know that by now."

"Oh, I do. It's just that I'm all about hopeless causes."

"And for that I'm thankful," he murmured, as his mouth found my neck.

"You and me both," I managed, before I let his lips carry me away—far, far away-from all cohesive thought.

* * *

I could never regret what I did that night, even though it would mean losing Jake Black. That's because I think I knew I'd end up betraying him at some time or another. In some strange way, it was a relief to get the inevitable treachery over with.

I hadn't premeditated a thing. I simply knew the entire time I'd been with Jake that no matter how well I played the part, my heart belonged to another. It's why I couldn't say I love you. It's why I could never call myself his girlfriend. I could go through the motions with him, and give him the most I was capable of giving. I could laugh and live my life with some semblance of joy. But at the end of the day, my heart always required Edward, and it was only a matter of time before I acted on that requirement.

In recognizing my need for him, I learned a simple truth that would forever govern our connection. No matter where I went, no matter what I did, every road would eventually lead back to a pair of emerald eyes that owned me heart and soul.

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**we are on the home stretch. things can change of course-just ask my beta-but it looks like 2 to 3 flash back chapters left and 2 present day to go!**


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU, all-human.**

Thanks to my beta, klarsen18!

**Sorry for the delay in posting! real life got in the way. this little story is nearing its end...probably 3ish more chapters after this one. FF formatting is acting weird and it won't let me do double these "-" when they are called for. It bugs me, but hopefully it won't bug you.**

This chapter takes place in the summer of 1996. Just to clarify...as you'll see Bella graduates. Edward hasn't quite yet...it will take him another year to finish classes, apply to med schools and take the MCAT, etc.

**Where we left off in the last chapter: Charlie has cancer and it doesn't look good. Bella, in her grief over his diagnosis as well as his treatment of her, needed Edward and called for him. He came to her and she cheated on Jacob with him.**

* * *

**Chapter 24-Didn't See It Coming (1996)**

My dad lived exactly six months to the day, after receiving his diagnosis. He endured grueling treatments for several months, until the pain they inflicted was outweighed by the alternative. He'd suffered through the severe nausea, frequent vomiting, fatigue, muscle weakness, and cloudy mindedness. He'd endured the endless infusions of the chemo, transfusions of blood and blood products, and countless hospital stays due to a weak immune system or dangerous dehydration. Charlie was the only one intimately acquainted with such things, which is why when he decided to forego all treatment-a decision I wasn't one hundred percent behind-I simply kept my opinion to myself.

Once the decision was made, he quietly settled into his home of 30 years, armed only with a fistful of palliative prescriptions. He resolutely faced the beast ravaging his body, minus the "weapons" he'd depended on for months. Toward the end of it all, as the disease process took its dreadful toll, he was essentially drowning in his own fluid filled lungs. The acts of breathing, sitting, talking, and eating were work-gut wrenching work for him. To watch him struggle so in an effort to do the simplest of things, undid us all. Us all, being myself and Sue, the live-in whore, who had become so much more to me in those final days.

Ironically, the way I knew how very sick my dad was-how very close to the end he really was-had less to do with his obvious physical symptoms, and everything to do with the absence of something very specific. There came a day when he no longer clung to his highball glass as if it were oxygen. His requests for his favorite concoction became few and far between, and then he simply no longer asked for it at all. That's when I knew. That's how I knew death was literally knocking on our door.

In those last days, in the absence of Jack and Coke and in the rare moments when the narcotics weren't keeping him near comatose, I saw the smallest glimmer of the man I'd been looking to see for so many years; gentle eyes, a soft smile, and a peaceful countenance. Though older, and sick-weary, he looked more like the man of my memories; who had always loved my mother so and held her tightly to his side.

As sick as he was, and as easy as it would have been for him to simply stop fighting the disease that had taken ownership of him; he simply wouldn't let go. Even when his body was shutting itself down, even when it took an ungodly amount of pain medication to even come close to easing him, and even when we were all but begging him to stop struggling, he hung on.

As the stubbornness of his fight became apparent, I began to secretly postulate as to exactly why he was hanging on like that. Sue, unable to stomach his misery, had sat him down and in essence released him. She'd given him permission to let go, promising she'd be okay without him. I believed he wasn't hanging on for her.

He claimed to have things, in his own words, _square with God_, so I assumed he wasn't fearful of dying. He'd even said as much, during the very few serious conversations I had with him toward the end. I can still hear his gravely voice saying, _It may be hard to believe this, but I know where I'm going. That is the one thing I know, and maybe the one thing I got right in this life of mine._

My brain could only wrap itself around one other reason. Maybe my dad refused to let go because he wanted things to be right with his only daughter before it was too late. That's what I hoped for anyway, and what I chose to believe right up the bitter end.

Edward stood firm to his belief about my dad. He adamantly insisted that my father wasn't capable of giving me more. In light of this, Edward constantly warned me not to hold out for some sort of deathbed atonement from Charlie. I appreciated his concern for me, but my hurt was too deep, too intimate, too hidden within me to be touched by something logical. I think Edward knew this too, but he made his argument daily, over the phone anyway, as it was the only way he knew to help me and love me from far away. Or maybe it was just his way of preparing me for the disappointment he knew would come.

I stayed close to dad and Sue's home as much as my work and school schedule allowed. With very little fanfare—per my request-I graduated from college with my BSN that May. Instead of starting my job at the hospital immediately, I stayed at Twilight through the summer so I could be easily accessible to my dad and Sue.

I sat vigil at Charlie's bedside and visited with him when he was up to it, took his verbal assaults on the days he felt really good, and just caressed his hand with mine, on his very worst, incapacitated days. Such days, ironically, were my favorite, because I could uninhibitedly stare at his face and pretend we were close. I could silently implore him to open his eyes and tell me he loved me and that he was sorry for all those years of darkness. I could simply pretend in those moments that things were how they should've always been.

But they weren't, and his death ensured they never would be.

Because when his last breath was finally taken, my dad had never attempted to reconcile with me. He never even mentioned, in six months of knowing his death was imminent, a word about how very strained our relationship had been for so many years. No regrets were voiced. No apologies, or even semblances of such were uttered. He simply said to me right before he died, in between thin gasps for air, "I love you, kid. I know I didn't love you well, but I did love you."

It was all he could he manage, or all he chose to manage anyway. Receiving his final words to me was bittersweet-something like settling for scraps, when you were hoping for a feast. My heart would carry a hole in it for the rest of my life, knowing that while I was in some way loved, things would never be set right between father and daughter.

Dad's funeral was small, attended by maybe 80 people—the crowd mainly composed of those he served in the police force with for all those years. It was a simple service, very cut and dry, just as he had requested. I cried silently through the entire thing, obviously grieved to have lost my dad, but also completely bowled over by how many memories it drudged up of my mom's funeral. Memories I'd buried away for safekeeping, that hadn't graced my conscious thought in years.

Throughout the service I watched huge teardrops create little trails down Sue's cheeks as she listened to the pastor eulogize. She sat two seats over and pain literally radiated off of her body. She kept a vice like grip on the hand next to her, none other than that of the boy whose heart I trampled all over months prior. The boy who took my betrayal with a grace I'd never seen—likely because it was served to him with a side of _by the way, Charlie is sick and dying_. Jacob sat at that funeral, serving as the rock he was made to be, for his heartbroken aunt. He held his head high yet with certain humility, around Edward and I, at the funeral and visitation. I knew it must have been torture for him, but he endured it because it was the right thing to do. That's just who Jacob Black was.

I grieved for Sue's loss, because she'd thoroughly loved a version of my dad I'd never had the pleasure of knowing myself. And I grieved for me, wishing desperately to hurt in the same way she was. Wishing I could feel something beyond regret and disappointment toward the man that was finally resting in peace in a large mahogany casket.

I stared at his final resting place, which was covered with a huge spray of mixed white flowers, and for some reason while lost in a haze of white petals, realized for the first time that I was an orphan. My new identity hit me unexpectedly like a ton of bricks. In the months of watching him die, it had never occurred to me that once Charlie was gone, I would literally be alone in the world, with no family to speak of.

With urgency, I reached to either side of me, seeking out the two touches I required-Edward's hand to my right, and Alice's to my left. I kept hold of them for the rest of the funeral, knowing they were all I had left. They gladly received my tenacious grip, returning it in kind.

Rose and Emmett sat on the other side of Alice. Their presence touched me deeply and something about Rose's sturdy, unchanging demeanor brought me great comfort. She leaned forward at one point of the service, when my tears were flowing like a sieve, and she was able to steel me with just a supportive glance. It was something only she could do.

There was a tiny reception at the house after the service. Sue flittered around from room to room, busying herself. It was strange to see the widow, for all practical purposes, being a proper hostess. But I'd learned over the previous months, as we cared for my dad together, busyness was how she coped.

When I would sit by my dad's bedside and just watch him sleep, Sue would tidy the room, make him tea he would never drink, and cook him scrambled eggs he'd never have an appetite for. I found comfort in watching him rest, soundly sleeping from the much needed narcotics. She found comfort in making provisions and keeping their shared home and life afloat.

Five sets of eyes followed Sue's busy steps through the living room that afternoon after the funeral, as we sat on the couch and numbly ate pot roast. The twenty or so people who had come over to pay their respects had pretty much cleared out, leaving only me, Alice, Edward, Emmett and Rose. Sue and her sister, along with Edward's mother, were also there, picking up the house, packing up left overs we'd never eat, and cramming them in the refrigerator.

"She seems to be holding up well," Alice commented of Sue, as she tore her dinner roll into a dozen pieces.

"She is. _Sue_ is really strong." I made a point of using her name, ashamed to have only referred to her by her dreadful nickname for so many years.

"She walks fast." This was Emmett's input. Rose hit him square in the chest and rolled her eyes.

"She likes to keep moving, to stay busy. It gets her through," I clarified, feeling a compulsion to explain Sue to the group.

Edward set his green eyes in her direction. "I feel so sad for her."

"It is sad," I agreed, feeling much more aggrieved for her than for myself.

"She seems pretty nice," Rose added softly.

"She's much nicer than I ever gave her credit for."

"She so doesn't seem like a live-in whore," said Alice.

I lowered my eyes in shame. "I know…I can't believe I called her that."

"You and Sue are good now," Edward offered optimistically, eyeing Alice pointedly. "I think you should focus on that."

"So what is next for you and Sue?" Rose inquired.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss her though."

"Is she going somewhere?" Alice asked, wide eyed.

I looked at my friend, only then noticing the raccoon eyes her makeup plus tears had created.

"I don't really know. But it's not like she has any responsibility towards me. I figure we'll part ways, right?"

Edward shrugged. Rose raised her eyebrows in question. Emmett appeared to be pondering it, and Alice's bottom lip quivered in a precursor to tears.

I too, stopped and mulled it over. "I mean, why _would_ we still see each other? That wouldn't make any sense."

I meant it as a statement of fact, but as I uttered the last syllable, my voice cracked and I could feel my heart jammed in my throat.

Edward placed his arm firmly around my shoulder and pulled me toward him. Nestled against his warmth, I felt unexpected tears spill over. Rose quietly handed me a tissue from her purse.

"Oh sweetie, don't cry,"Alice cooed. Fresh tears fell from her eyes too, making her black smeared makeup even worse.

"You are," I shot back, almost accusingly.

"I can't help it."

Rose slid a tissue Alice's way as well. My eyes met Rose's and she nodded minutely, yet again sending me strength with a look.

"I just feel like a such a freak," I admitted, as I dabbed my face with my Kleenex, ruing that my eyes had sprung a leak.

"You're no such thing," Edward insisted steadily.

"It's just that I expected to be devastated when Charlie died. I expected to feel awful and empty. What I didn't see coming was _this_."

"This?" Emmett repeated.

"I can't stop crying because I'm going to miss my almost step-mom-who, we all know-I've hated up until recently. I never dreamed that thinking about her leaving would be so painful, when for years all I wanted was for her to go away."

Pulling away from Edward, I took a deep breath, fisted my hands and jammed them into my eyes, as if I might plug them up and snuff my tears away.

"How am I _not _a freak?" I commented coarsely, feeling as frustrated, as I was sad.

"She was there for you. Of course you'll miss her." Edward kissed my head gently. Then he grabbed my wrists and forced me to remove my fists from my eyes. "Look at me."

I shook my head no, preferring to hide behind my eyelids. "I-I can't talk about this right now."

"Then don't talk. Listen," Edward insisted gently.

I shifted my focus toward my lap, choosing to examine my plate of non-eaten food, as if it were amazingly captivating.

He lowered his gaze, literally forcing my eyes to match his. "Bella, look at me,"

Exhaling, I nodded my head curtly. I felt Rose's hand reach across Edward and grab my hand on one side. Alice's tiny hand patted my back on the other side of me.

"You and Sue went through a lot together," Edward began. "That kind of stuff makes people close."

"Yeah it does," Emmett chimed in, causing all of our heads to snap his way.

"What? He's right." He shrugged indignantly.

Edward continued on, "You two were a team there at the end, Bella. You worked together to care for Charlie like some kind of well-oiled machine. You were over at their house more than you were at your own apartment. Plus, Sue's been a legit stable adult in your life, and let's face it, you don't have many of those. She's been a rock for both you and Charlie. _Of course_, losing her scares you."

Edward's homage to Sue produced in me-and Alice, and Rose actually too-a whole new wave of tears.

"Maybe you won't have to miss her?" Alice offered between sniffles. "I mean, what's to say she doesn't plan on sticking around? Where will she go anyway?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I'm a twenty-one year adult who can take care of myself. I just can't see us hanging out like pretend mother and daughter. Caring for dad was our common denominator and now that's gone."

"Don't assume anything, Bella," Rose offered diplomatically. "Everything's fresh. Give it some time, and see how things fall out."

"Rose is right, Bells," Edward murmured in my ear, as he caressed my shoulder. I leaned into him so his lips were touching my ear. "You may be surprised how things turn out."

"Maybe so," I managed, realizing in that instant how much my head was pounding and how bone-deep weary I felt. Out of necessity, I rested my head on Edward's shoulder and closed my eyes, exhaling concertedly.

"It's been a long, rough day, Bella. I think we should give you some space," Rose interjected.

"She's right." I heard Alice, to my right, rustle a bit, stand up and grab our plates off the coffee table. "I guess I'll go help out in the kitchen."

"How about Emmett and I join you?"

"Sure, Rose."

"Come on you big lug," Rose said lovingly, and she hoisted Emmett up with her hand.

The couch shifted when he stood up to dutifully follow the girls into the kitchen. Emmett turned to Edward on his way out. "Hey, we'll catch you back over at your house in a bit?"

"Sure, Emmett. If mom's not there, just let yourself in with the key I gave you," Edward explained, as the two of them maneuvered some kind of hand shake/fist bump thing they always did.

"We'll see y'all in a bit." Alice's soprano was soft and soothing. "Just take some time, kay?

"Thanks, Alice," Edward replied, my two best friends making nice. Granted, to not make nice on the day I buried my dad would be unthinkable.

I heard the three of them walk away, and as much as I adored that they were there with me, and had been there through that heart-wrenching day, I treasured the moment to be with just Edward.

"I can't believe I lost it like that in front of them, especially Emmett." I whispered, still resting my head heavily on him.

"Showing some emotion…being real isn't a bad thing, especially on a day like this. If you didn't lose it I might worry."

"I just feel embarrassed now."

"You shouldn't. They want to be here for you. That's why they're here."

"I still can't believe Rose and Em came just one week after their honeymoon."

"They wouldn't have missed it, Bells."

"Like I missed their wedding?" I added sullenly.

"Come on. You're dad was on hospice. You couldn't leave. Rose and Em knew that. You don't really feel bad about that, do you?"

"I just hated missing it."

"I know you did." He placed a kiss on my cheek, letting his lips linger.

"I'm so glad you're here," I whispered, nuzzling my head into his body.

"Of course I'm here." The voice I loved rumbled through his chest to my ears.

"How long? How long are you here?"

"I'm not sure, Bells."

"When will you be sure?"

"Work's not a problem, but school won't wait on me. You know how fast summer sessions are. Plus, you know I take the MCAT in 2 weeks. I've got a lot of cramming to do. I can stay through the weekend, but I probably need to head back by Tuesday."

I let out a shuddered breath, and felt a new wave of tears prick my eyes.

"Please don't cry, Bella."

"Can't help it. It's hard when you're not here. It's just hard."

"I know it is. Our someday is closer than ever. If I can get my crap in gear and ace that stupid test, then maybe I'll get into medical school here. Just hang on a little longer, Bells."

"I just love you and want to be with you, especially now. I know I'm going to need you. The real you and not just the telephone you," I resigned.

"I _will_ be here for you, the best I can."

"I know," I murmured quietly, knowing phone calls—as always-would have to be enough, even if they really weren't.

For the six months we'd been back together, Edward and I-buried in the crisis that was Charlie's health-hadn't fought about our long distance situation that much. I still loathed the distance. I still longed for him everyday, but having a bigger more pressing problem, put our old familiar conflict in the back seat. It was still there, but just hadn't seen the light of day that much. With Charlie gone, life would soon go back to normal. I already feared we'd find our way back to the familiar quarrels that had plagued our relationship.

Edward lightened his hold on me, and pulled away so that I was forced to look at him. His green eyes, slightly moistened with unshed tears, transfixed me. "I love you so much, Bella. More than ever. I think you're the strongest person I've ever known."

"I sure don't feel like it."

"Well, you are. Trust me," he offered through a small lopsided grin, "I know these things."

"There's that smile I love," I murmured.

"This old thing?" He sent a wide, dramatic, purely fake smile my way, and winked.

"You're pretty amazing, Edward Masen. Did you know that?"

"I do now."

"I mean it. The whole time we've been together—the second time around anyway—has been all about Charlie. All about how _I'm_ dealing with it. You and I…we've gotten a bit lost in the shuffle."

"It's just a season, Bella."

"Even so, you've never once complained. When you come to see me we barely get any alone time, and you never say a word about it. I know it's getting old."

"Being with you—in whatever way—never gets old. It's as simple as that."

"Some guys wouldn't have stuck around."

"I'm not some guys."

"No, you're not." I leaned in and touched my lips to his, needing to breath him in. His hand found it's way to my cheek, where he gently ran circles with his thumb.

"All that to say," I whispered, "thank you. I wouldn't have made it through this without you. I _won't _make it through this without you."

His eyes were breathtaking and earnest. "You don't have to."

I lifted my hand and swept a stray lock of hair off of his forehead. "I want to be with you every moment until you hop on that plane. Understood?"

Edward drew me in and kissed me for several seconds. Smiling against my lips, he muttered, "Understood."

"And after you go back, I have the right to call on you night or day. And if that means you just have to sit on the phone and listen to me cry for hours, you'll gladly comply."

"Gladly," he agreed under his breath, stealing another kiss. Then he nuzzled his nose into my neck, his warm breath sending chills through me.

"Are you seriously frisky on the day of my dad's funeral?"

"Guess I am." His voice was muffled, as his lips had found my skin once more. "When am I not?"

"Good point," I laughed breathily, finding comfort in his friskiness, because for me it just meant closeness and touch.

I set my head on his broad chest, subconsciously listening for his heart beat.

He pressed his lips into the top of my head. "I love you, Bella Swan. Forever and a day." His proclamation was throaty and sincere.

"I'm counting on that," I said to him in answer, my voice unexpectedly breaking.

He lifted his lips from my head and tilted my face up so our gazes were connected. His eyes studied mine, and held me with a searching, contemplative gaze. Something about it made my stomach drop.

I was just about to ask him what was behind such a look, when the clearing of a throat, interrupted the moment.

"Sorry," Sue said quietly from across the living room.

Edward and I, when we realized who was there, bolted upright as if we'd been caught with our hands in the cookie jar.

Sue knew all about what I'd done to Jacob-that Edward's reappearance into my life had everything to do with Jake's exit. Much like her nephew, she had taken the high road, but even so, I couldn't imagine she'd delight in Edward and I as a couple. We were always a bit uncomfortable showing affection in front of Sue.

"No, its okay Sue. What's up?" I offered obligingly, as I smoothed the front of my shirt.

"Do you have a second, Bella? There are some things we need to talk over. I figure now is as good a time as any?"

"Sure." I glanced over at Edward pointedly, with a hint of apology. "Edward was just going to run home for a bit and hang out with Rose and Emmett before they fly back to Colorado anyway."

"Exactly," he agreed, perhaps a bit too scripted-like. "I'll let you two ladies chat."

He rose from the couch and I found myself taking in his tall broad form, clothed in an untucked dress shirt and slacks, topped off with a loose tie. After all the years I'd spent looking at the guy, there were still moments when everything about him took me by surprise and almost left me breathless with wonder.

"I'll be back over in about an hour?" Edward said quietly.

"Meet me at Our Tree?"

"Absolutely," he grinned.

He winked, mouthed I love you and exited the room with a courteous nod in Sue's direction.

"You two are sweet," she commented softly as she sat down where Edward had just been. "I am so thankful, Bella, that you have him."

"_Really_?"

"Of course I am." She looked confused.

"I just thought with what happened between Jake and I…"

"Oh, I _hated _seeing Jacob hurt like that, and I'll admit the protective aunt in me came out at first. I wasn't too happy with you or your boyfriend there for awhile. But I knew it was coming. I saw it coming before you did, sweetie."

Speechless, I simply shook my head.

"You and that boy," she nodded to the door Edward just exited, "are meant to be. Can't stop that kind of thing from running its course. My sweet Jacob shouldn't have even tried to get in between y'all, Bella. You and I both know that."

"Wow," I breathed out, somewhat stunned.

"Besides, Jacob's moved on. Got himself a sweet little blonde that thinks he hung the moon and the stars and everything in between."

I grinned widely, thinking about Jake being adored like he deserved to be.

"So I'm glad you have Edward, Bella. You need his support right now."

I stared into her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity.

"Thank you, Sue," I told her, my voice heavy with emotion.

"So the service was nice. Charlie would've liked it, don't you think?" she inquired, as she settled into the couch. She looked as worn out as I felt.

"I think he would have. You did a good job of making it everything he wanted."

"It was a gift to have that time with him. To know what he wanted and not have to try to figure that out on my own."

"I suppose it was."

"I'm just so numb," "she breathed out, "and not having to make big decisions about the service was nice."

"You did a good job, Sue. I'm thankful to you for handling it all. Had you not, it would have fallen on me, and I don't know if I could've handled it."

"It was my pleasure. My honor really," she smiled wistfully, staring unseeingly ahead of her for several silent moments.

"So how are you doing, sweetie? How are _you _doing with everything?"

"I'm okay."

"Yeah?" The edges of her eyes were tight as she scrutinized my face.

"You're right. Having some time with him before he…that was nice. Just so different than it was with my mom."

Her hand found mine, and she gave it a soft squeeze.

"But I'm okay today. I'm just really sad for you, Sue, if I'm being honest." My voice cracked. "You've lost so much."

"We both have." Sue's blood shot, weary eyes scanned mine.

With a tilt to her head, she appeared to be contemplating something for several moments before she spoke again. "Bella, I want you to know that I _know_. I've always known."

My brows furrowed in question. "Known what?"

"Every couple has a point of contention. The thing they are guaranteed to fight over if they choose to go there." She took pause as if accessing a memory. "Some argue over money. Some over in-laws…you get the drift. Care to guess what that was for your father and I?"

_Jack and Coke_. I thought.

"We fought over you."

My eyes widened in shock.

"Charlie didn't treat you well and I knew it. He did not parent you and I saw that. I didn't know your mother, Bella, but I feel sure she would've been sorely disappointed in him."

I couldn't still the sudden trembling of my bottom lip, and my voice was but a whisper. "I-I didn't know. I didn't know you felt that way."

"Of course you didn't. How could you have?"

I could only look down at my hands, which I wrung nervously.

"I loved your father _very _much, and I chose to stick by his side through everything. But I could never get behind the way he was with you. Maybe I should've intervened, despite his insistence that I stay out of it? I'm not sure, but I always felt like it wasn't my place. I want you to know something, because I can only imagine how you must be feeling today."

I stared into her dark eyes, drawn to them, finding a calm there that I much liked, and needed.

"Your dad loved you the best he could. It wasn't enough. It was at times, despicable. But I can say with 100% surety that he did love you, and I only hope you can find a way to believe that's true."

A sob escaped my throat. I had no words, just tears. What Sue admitted meant so much to me, mainly because what she'd done was validate me. Someone, beyond Edward and Alice, had seen the truth for what it was. Someone was telling me that how my dad had treated me was simply not okay.

"Th-thank you, Sue," I managed weakly, as I caught my tears with my fingertips.

"Oh sweetie, you're welcome. I just ask you to forgive me for not doing more to make life better for you."

"You did nothing wrong. You took care of my dad. You brought out a good side of him. You made a man who'd given up on life, live again. What more could I have asked?"

It was her bottom lip, her bright pink bottom lip that quivered this time.

"And I'm sorry for a lot of things." I paused, so ashamed at how I'd always judged her. "I'm sorry you lost your love. My dad couldn't quite get it right with me, but he managed to do a pretty good job with you. And I know you're going to miss him so much."

Her face contorted as she battled burgeoning tears, but she steadied herself. "He was good to me. And for that I'm thankful. I will miss him so, but I can't regret anything. I'd do it all over again."

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. She was soft and warm, and I squeezed hers back and held onto it for several seconds.

"You are a good girl, Miss Bella. You beat the odds and turned out better than okay."

"That's negotiable."

"No it's not. You are strong. You have resolve. I admire that in you." She blinked several times, all the while holding my eyes with her soft, tear filled gaze. "So there's something I wanted to tell you. Charlie and I should have addressed it with you sooner. We just never did, probably because it would have made the end feel so much nearer. We just put it off and then it was...it was too late."

"Okay?"

"This house," she waved her hands around her and my eyes followed them, "is yours."

"What?" The strong Southwest vibe, that was all Sue, was all my eyes could see. This house was not mine, it was clearly hers.

"Your dad left this to you. We updated his will when we found out about the cancer, and he wanted you to have this house. It's paid off and in pretty good shape thanks to some recent upgrades we managed to pull off before he got sick."

All I could do was shake my head...Sue's rust, blue and brown décor swirling around me. "I can't…"

"Oh, yes you can. He wanted you to have this."

"But this place has you all over it. You've lived here for years. I-I don't belong here anymore," I blurted out.

She placed a firm hand on my knee. "You grew up here. Your mother is all over this place still. I was only here on loan. Besides, your father didn't have much to speak of. He had no money to leave you. This house was all he had and he was very specific about wanting it to be yours."

"But where will _you_ go?"

"I'll figure it out. My sister has room in her condo. Maybe I'll go live with her? Or I could even go back to the res. They'd get a kick out of that." Her mouth twitched into a smile, and her sad eyes shone.

"H-how are you okay with all this? How can you joke around when you've lost everything?"

"I'm okay because your dad is finally at rest. I'm also okay because I had six blessed months to say good-bye to him. I'm okay because I learned a long time ago that life is hard and it's not fair. You just have to roll with it." And then she added softly, "I will miss him like crazy. I will walk around feeling like half of me is missing. But I'll be okay…and so will you."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"Say you're excited to come back home."

"How can I be when I'm leaving you homeless?"

"You are doing no such thing."

"I feel horrible. This doesn't feel right," I told her resolutely.

"Bella, I won't take no for an answer. Charlie was specific about this. It's in the legal paperwork. This house if yours and I plan to vacate as soon as possible. Case closed."

I didn't really know what else to say, and I sat there somewhat dazed and at a loss for words. Sue pulled me toward her, and we shared a stiff embrace-one between two bodies that weren't acquainted with each other. After several seconds our hug lost its sharp edges and became comfortable and easy.

It was a lot to take in on such an emotion-filled day, but I finally agreed to take the house. Since Alice and I had four more months on our apartment lease, I asked Sue to live in the house until we could move in. It was an agreement I could live with, as I knew it would give her time to grieve and figure out a plan. Perhaps it would do the same for me; as moving back into a place that held so many memories-good and bad-wouldn't be a seamless thing for me.

I sat with Sue on the couch in the living room for another half hour. We cried some, and even laughed, when I revealed the lovely nickname I'd given her before I really knew her. We made amends of sorts, and it felt good, really good, to have closure like that, seeing as I'd never get it with my father.

It came time for me to say goodbye, time to meet Edward under Our Tree, where I was sure the real waterworks would begin. I stood up on stiff legs and stretched my arms. As I turned to leave the room, I thought better of it. Something inside me compelled me to grab one more hug, so I leaned down to where Sue still sat and wrapped my arms around her neck.

"Thank you," I whispered, "for everything."

She said nothing in return, though I heard a muffled sob. And just before we let go, she placed a kiss on my cheek.

As I left the house, I caught my reflection in the entryway mirror. There on my face in living color, were two flamingo pink half crescent lipstick marks. I simply brought my fingers up to where they were and smiled. That day I was in no hurry to wipe them off. In fact, I left them on my cheek the rest of the day, finding a strange comfort in knowing they were there.

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Over the next several weeks I helped Sue go through my dad's things. It was gut-wrenching for me to see all his belongings, to smell him all over his clothing. Everything spoke of the man that had inhabited the place for 3 decades. I couldn't look at his books, his wallet, his gun collection without feeling heavy regret over the relationship I had—or didn't have—with the man.

Sue was amazingly strong throughout the process, her fortitude never ceasing to amaze me. She went about organizing everything quite meticulously. She approached it like a project, even using a checklist, and I figured that was how she had to conduct herself to avoid falling to pieces.

She'd become rail thin in just a short time, and when I asked her about it, she admitted with very weepy eyes, it just wasn't any fun cooking for one. That just about broke my heart, because I knew, I'd seen, that providing meals for Charlie was always one of her favorite things to do. I decided to ask her to cook for Alice and me if she was ever up to it, and that quickly morphed into a once weekly dinner date for the three of us.

Five weeks after the funeral, I hung up my apron at Twilight for one last time. It was time to say goodbye to the job that sustained me through high school and college, and hello to my future as a nurse. I secured a position—a 7 a.m. to 3p.m. shift-on the cardiac critical care unit. It was unheard of for a new nurse to get a day shift in a unit like that right out of school, but somehow I lucked out. I was given a hard-nosed, no-nonsense preceptor named Jeanie, who I thank to this day for making me the nurse I am. The adjustment to the full workweek, and the mental and physical load of caring for critically ill patients was rough for me. I was typically dead to the world by 9pm every night, just to keep up with the demands of it.

Edward insisted my job was seriously changing the quality of our phone time, because I kept falling asleep on him when we talked each evening. To that, I jokingly assured him that if he were just more interesting, I might not doze off so much.

Those months after Charlie died were all about change and adjustment: new job, new living arrangements—after Alice and I moved into my house, and new responsibilities. Then there was the new relational issues regarding Charlie. Our lack of reconciliation ate away at me, especially when I was tired and vulnerable-which was often.

As if these changes weren't enough for a girl who'd just buried her last living parent. As if life didn't feel chaotic and unsettled already, Alice dropped a bomb that topped them all. I'll never forget the night I found her on the floor of our god-awful peach bathroom.

"Hey Al!" I yelled, as I placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen table. "Got Chicken-in-a-Biscuit for you."

I looked through the mail and waited for the pitter-patter of her tiny footsteps. Alice loved to come running when she knew I'd been grocery shopping. She'd park herself at the bar and nibble on whatever fun snack I'd purchased as I put the groceries away.

Minutes passed and she never showed up. Since her car was in the drive, and it was past 6:30pm—when her shift at the rental car place ended—I knew she was home.

Figuring she must be over visiting with Esme, I headed to my bedroom to change out of my scrubs, so I could head next door to join them. On the way to my room, I heard a strange muffled sound. At first, I thought perhaps Alice was "entertaining" in her room, but as the sound became louder, I could tell it was actually coming from the guest bathroom-Alice's bathroom.

"Al," I called out, in the direction of the bathroom door.

The sound stopped abruptly.

"Alice." This time I walked right up to the door, which was closed to, but not shut.

There was still no answer.

I touched the door with my fingertips and watched it glide open. When she came into my view, my stomach dropped. There Alice sat on the peach tile. Her skin, which normally had a sort of luminescence to it, was washed out and dull, and her eyes were bright red and swollen.

"Sweetie," I spoke softly, as I fell to my knees next to her, "what is it?"

She opened her mouth as if to speak and blinked rapidly.

"What happened, Al?" I could feel my panicked heart racing underneath my skin as I waited for some kind of explanation.

Alice shook her head and her bottom lip quaked. Tears collected in her eyes and jumped onto her cheeks. She opened her mouth once more, and yet again, nothing came out. She literally couldn't speak, this much was evident. My bright, energetic friend, who was _never_ at a loss for words, sat before me lifeless, drained and clearly distressed. I knew something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

I frantically searched her bloodshot eyes for a clue, when I heard something hit the floor with a click. Looking down to follow the sound, my eyes honed in on a white plastic stick. A white plastic stick with two blue lines on it.

My mouth opened with a quiet gasp and I met her agitated brown-black eyes, with mine.

She just continued to shake her head, as tears poured out and into the corners of her mouth.

Not knowing what else to do, I pulled her to me tightly. When her face came into contact with my shoulder, she wilted into a heap of sobs.

I held her to me and whispered calmly into her ear, letting her cry for several minutes. I cried along with her, though she remained unaware.

Her weeping was loud and tortured at first, then it quieted down into the muffled sound that had brought me to the bathroom in the first place. Then her tears became sporadic, in which she'd be quiet and a solitary sob would escape with a quick rise of her chest. Finally, she simply sat there with her head on my shoulder, her eyes motionless and glassy.

"It's going to be alright, Alice. I promise it will." I finally said to her, sounding calm and certain, when really I was anything but.

"How? How will it be alright?" Her flat lifeless response surprised me—as she had yet to actually speak.

"It just will," I assured her, as every reason it _wouldn't_ be all right ran circles in my mind. "It will be alright because we're in this together. I'm here for you."

"_Why_ are you here for me?"

"What?" I pulled away, making her look at me.

"I'm a complete mess. I'm constantly doing stupid crap. I finally graduate college, get a promotion at work, and now I'm knocked up. Just brilliant."

She held the little plastic stick in one hand so tightly she had white knuckles. "As if you didn't have enough grief in your life, Bella, your best friend Alice swoops in and adds the cherry on top once again."

"Don't say that, Alice. Things happen."

"Especially to me. This would _never_ happen to you," she insisted.

"It could have, Alice." I remembered Riley and how irresponsibly I'd lived. I could have ended up in her exact predicament easily.

As if she'd read my mind, she added, "There was _one tiny_ window in your life when it could've happened. When you acted stupidly enough for it to happen. This is just par for course for Alice Brandon."

"Stop it, Alice. Stop beating yourself up."

Clearly ignoring me, she pressed on. "Ask me who the father is, Bella."

"Alice."

"_Just ask me_." She demanded sharply.

"Fine. Who's the father?"

Her dark eyes connected with mine, so uncharacteristically serious and somber they leveled me. "I've slept with so many guys, Bella, I don't even know."

"Okay," I replied quietly and calmly, though inside I was reeling at the little revelation.

"And when I try to narrow it down to who it might be, well it's an all star list. There's Mark, a businessman from Arizona who rented a Dodge Neon. There's Grant from Dallas, married father of two, who rented an Accord, and there's Tim, who rented a Camry. He's an executive from Colorado, also married, and also a father of two."

As she listed this off, tears welled in my eyes.

"So, see how proud you can be of your little Alice here? Knocked up _and_ also a potential home wrecker."

"Stop talking like that, Alice."

"Why? It's true and we both know it."

"I think," I began evenly, considering how Rose might handle this very situation, "that we need to slow down and take this one step at a time. What's important above all else right now, is your health. Are you…are you okay, as far as you know?"

"I'm freaking pregnant!"

"Is everything okay so far?" I continued, unbaffled by her sarcasm. I had to dig deep to access anything I'd learned in my O.B./Gyn. rotation. "Any bleeding? Any cramping?"

"No. I just constantly want to vomit my guts out and my waistline is already all but gone."

I glanced down to look at her midsection. She wore a peasant top that concealed any kind of weight gain. In fact, she'd been wearing a lot of peasant tops in recent weeks.

"Just how late are you, Alice?" I asked her, as the reality of the situation dawned on me.

Her mouth and jaw became tight. "Late."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I've missed three periods."

"And you just now did a pregnancy test?" It came our much more incredulously than I meant for it to.

"Yes, Bella, denial ain't just a river in Egypt, okay?" She exhaled loudly and put her head in her hands.

"So you're probably like 3 months along by now." This time my voice was decidedly calmer.

"Something like that."

My brain slowly pieced the facts together and I realized my friend had known she was pregnant for weeks. The test she clutched in her tiny hand was simply a formality. She was a wreck, not because the news was indeed news, but rather, becasue she was finally facing a truth she'd refused to acknowledge.

"You've know you're pregnant for a while haven't you?"

She nodded her head. "Typical Alice, right? Sticking my head in the sand and pretending that if I don't acknowledge that my life is over, it won't be."

"Your life isn't over. It's...," I paused, searching for the word, "it's _different_, not over."

"Easy for you to say."

"You're right, Alice. I'm not trying to make light of this."

I stared into my friends terrified eyes, wanting so desperately to communicate my love for her, my support of her. Yet I felt as terrified as she looked, and I feared that was all she saw when she looked back at me.

"No matter what happens, Alice, I am here for you." I told her, mustering all the confidence and surety I could. "That might not make you feel better right now, but we've always made it through everything together. This won't be any different."

"Thank you, Bells," she whispered.

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"Fire away. I've got nothing to hide at this point."

I grabbed her hands, looked her square in the eye and asked her something I _was_ dying to know-something I believed she'd had several weeks to consider, "You say your life is over, Alice. Does this mean you've decided to keep this baby?"

She closed her eyes tightly and paused for several beats. When she opened them back up, they were wet with tears anew. "I don't know."

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**next chapter will post *hopefully* within a week from this post date.**


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

**Thank you klarsen18...you really talked me off the ledge on this one! And thx to those of you who leave me reviews and those who pimp me on twilight fanfic sights. What an honor!**

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A note for those who dig the details...

**Just so you know (if you care)...I have been vague-ish about the setting in this story. You know it takes place in a mid size West Texas town, that is dry and somewhat barren except for certain neighborhoods...which makes Edward and Bella's Tree special. I didn't want to get specific about much else setting wise, b/c for me, my story is way more about the characters then the setting. If you're interested, the city they live in is loosely based on Lubbock, TX, where I grew up. One of my readers, talipatra, recognized this b/c she went to college in Lubbock...that was a fun connection. Similarly, in this chapter, a fictional medical school called University Health Science Center is mentioned...which is loosely based on Texas Tech Health Sciences Center in Lubbock. You may or may not care about these kind of details, but I wanted to clarify why I wrote it as I did. **

**Also, I have heard at least one reader say the passage of time in Our Tree has been confusing for her. What I would say to that, besides I am sorry for any confusion, is that the most important thing about the timeline, is the arc of it...the ebb and flow, ups and downs, of E and B's relationship. Some FF stories are deliciously detailed...using 30+ chapters to describe the events in one week or even one day. My story covers a very wide expanse of time...basically (an over) 20 year love story. Each chapter is snapshot of a pivotal, defining, or iconic moment in the story of Edward and Bella. Thus obviously, much is left unsaid, but hopefully what's important to understanding their story has been included.**

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**This chapter takes place in 1997. E will be starting medical school soon. Alice is well into her pregnancy. **

**You'll finally get to see exactly what breaks our couple up... by the way, I enjoyed your many suppositions about their demise: infidelity, some even thought Edward was Alice's baby daddy...oh the horror!**

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**Chapter 25: When He Was Mine (1997)**

"He is so judgy!" Alice huffed, with her arms tightly crossed on top of her baby bump.

"Who is so judgy?" I inquired, as I pulled my truck out of the parking lot of the medical complex.

"Who else, Bella? That Dr. Hale person." I got a classic Alice eye roll.

"And you came to this conclusion after seeing him for a grand total of five minutes?"

"It was all over his face. That…that self-righteous, holier than thou, _look at this poor unwed mother _look_._"

"You picked up on all that today?"

"Absolutely."

"I think you're making some pretty big assumptions," I added carefully.

"_Wh-hh-yyy_ couldn't things just stay like they were? I love Dr. Garcia. He gets me. It was perfect!" She flapped her arms wildly, punctuating each point.

Alice had started seeing Dr. Garcia, a high-risk pregnancy specialist, when preeclampsia hit in her fifth month.

"I didn't know you felt so strongly about Dr. Garcia," I said, slightly amused by her tirade.

"I did." Alice cut her eyes sideways and looked at me sharply. "And now, that judgy Dr. Hale has to come in and mess everything up!"

I considered this Dr. Hale, who we'd just met. Quiet and genteel, classically handsome, with kind blue eyes, blonde hair which came to his chin—that he tucked behind his ears, and a long lean stature. He spoke with a drawl—different from ours-which led me to guess he was from east Texas somewhere. Of all the things I could call this man, based on our very short introduction to him, judgy would not be one of them.

"Personally, I thought he was nice. He's like the perfect southern gentleman," I admitted. "He sort of, oh I don't know, calmed the room."

"He _so _did not," Alice declared adamantly. She turned her head and sulked out the window.

"Well, aren't you in quite a tizzy over him."

"It is not a tizzy!"

"Oh, yes it is."

"I am _ticked_, Bella. Just because Dr. Hale wants to do his fellowship under Dr. Garica doesn't mean he has the right to force himself into my care."

"You are _so_ in a tizzy_."_

"_Because_ I have to see Dr. Judgmental every week until these babies come out!"

"I'm kind of surprised here."

"Why?" She questioned me impatiently, with her eyebrows raised high.

"I figured you'd have a crush on him. He's beautiful, a little mysterious. Plus, he's older than us. That's sort of like the perfect storm for you."

Her face became red and the veins in her neck bulged. She opened her mouth to speak and nothing came forth. Opening her mouth again, she made an exasperated sound that fell somewhere between _ugh_ and _argh. _Then she ran her hands through her hair frantically, borrowing a move from the Edward Masen book of gestures.

"Just relax, Alice," I chided her. "Getting all spun up isn't good for you or the babies."

"Whatever," she said, with a frown.

Alice acted petulant, but I saw her chest rise and fall slowly. She was indeed calming herself down, because she did indeed care deeply about the two babies girls who lived inside her.

Since her big revelation to me in our peach bathroom months prior, Alice Brandon had done a monumental gut check. With much trepidation, she decided to keep her—what she thought at the time was one—baby. She wasn't sure if she would raise this baby, but she knew she wanted to have it. She made the decision completely on her own. Quite frankly, she utterly shocked me, but I couldn't have been more proud of her. It was by far the most unselfish thing I'd ever seen Alice do.

Once she made the choice the keep her baby, she gave her self over to it completely. This wasn't quite as much of a surprise to me because she was known to jump on bandwagons. Over the years I'd seen her become completely obsessed with all things theater, step aerobics instruction, eating vegan, selling Mary Kay, the young democrats club, and massage therapy classes, among many others. All of these were nothing but whims, when it was all said and done, and that was my biggest worry when it came to these babies.

Nevertheless, I supported my friend the best I knew how. Together, we got her on prenatal vitamins, found her an obstetrician, told her parents—who took it about as well as we'd predicted, and stocked the fridge with healthy foods. She threw away her last pack of cigarettes and we moved her favorite bottles of wine and Zima to storage. All of this was done to the soundtrack of Alice's sniffles and tears, her way of grieving the end of a way of life she'd come to know and love.

She took to the drastic changes surprisingly well, armed with what had become her pregnancy mantra_, It is what it is_. Alice had her moments for sure…fits of _this is not fair_, crying jags where she felt suffocated and boxed in, but for the most part, she handled it. As she trudged forward, there was almost a chip on her dainty shoulder as if she was daring someone, anyone, to say she couldn't hack it.

Alice carried herself resolutely, as if she had been called to it. And her calling only became more certain the day she got to see the fetal heartbeat, or heartbeats as it turned out be. Huge tears plopped out of her wide dark eyes that were fixed on the monitor. Her mouth was open in a wide smile and she appeared to be absolutely entranced, as if she was beholding some kind of mythical creature.

I had expected her to fall apart when the doctor confirmed there were two heartbeats—two babies, but my Alice didn't. She'd slowly nodded her head, as the tears kept coming, and she'd looked over at me.

She took a measured breath, swallowed deep and spoke in an even voice, "Looks like I'm having twins, Bella."

"Sure does, Al. You okay?"

"I think I am," she answered, still in that even voice. Her eyes were unyielding yet clearly fearful. "It is what it is, right?"

"Indeed it is," I agreed quietly. We grabbed one another's hand and she clutched mine so tightly I winced.

She was scared, and she didn't have a clue how things could possibly work out, but from the day of that sonogram forward, the tiny twin babies within her, owned her heart and soul. For that matter, they owned me too.

As for the father of the twins, Alice thought long and hard about what to do. There was a part of her that wanted whoever it was to suffer the consequences as she was. She felt it would only be fair, for his life to be turned upside down, like hers had been. Yet as she pondered exactly how to find out which guy it was, her desire for justice was outweighed by reality. Could she track down these various men it might be? Could she actually convince them to take paternity tests? Could she pay for paternity tests? And even if the answer to these questions was yes, and she miraculously figured out who the father was, what would she expect from this person anyway?

It became increasingly clear that Alice was to take this journey on her own, with me doing my best to stand the in the gap. Something I was honored, though terrified in my own right, to do.

"All I know, Alice," I chimed in, as we continued to drive home from her appointment, "is that after everything you've been through at the doctors' office, you have had the most emotional, irrational reaction to, of things, a quiet kind hearted doctor. Finding out it was twins, being told you'd have to go on bed rest because of your blood pressure, didn't even get this kind of reaction."

"And?"

"It's just weird, Al. That's all I'm saying." My mouth twitched into a smile, which I immediately stifled. I was having too much fun watching her—the unflappable Alice when it came to the opposite sex—reeling over a man.

"He. Was. Judgy," she declared with finality. She jutted out that jaw, grandly rolled her eyes once more and glared out the window for the rest of the drive.

* * *

I sat on pins and needles in the living room, awaiting Edward's arrival. I hadn't laid eyes on him in two months, and a tingly nervous anticipation crawled all over my skin. He was still in the mountains working for Carlisle, finishing a couple of required classes, and stockpiling money, all while awaiting word from the medical schools he'd applied to.

When he finally tapped on my front door, I practically knocked over the coffee table in my quest to answer it. I swung the door open and immediately jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist.

"Hey there, Little Bit," he greeted me in husky, emotional voice. I felt him bury his nose in my hair and inhale deeply.

I didn't answer him back, choosing instead to pepper his face with kisses. When I was done covering every square inch, I pulled away a bit and grabbed his eyes with mine. "I've missed you is all," I whispered through a grin.

"I gathered." His emerald gaze softened as he lowered me to the ground.

Then he leaned in and his lips met mine, where he proceeded to kiss me, as I liked to call it, properly. Or as Edward would say, long and hard.

When we finally came up for air, I grabbed his hand and excitedly pulled him into the house.

"It's looking nice, Bells," he commented, as his eyes scanned the place. "You and Alice have definitely made it yours."

"Thanks. It's home again. There's so much more to do, but I've gotta take it slow. There's obviously other things to take care of right now."

"With you essentially supporting Alice right now, I can't imagine you have any spare time or money for home improvements." Edward's voice had a subtle prickly edge to it that I didn't like. I chose to ignore it, not wanting to get into a familiar disagreement. His stance on the position Alice's pregnancy had put me in, was clear.

Ignoring him, I went on, "We're going to paint the kitchen bright green next weekend, just because it'll look fun. Al wanted to paint it neon green in homage to the 80's, but I put my foot down on that one."

"And where is she?" he inquired, as he squinted his eyes to study the photos dotting our fireplace mantel.

"She's finishing getting dressed in her room. She's heading to your mom's tonight."

"My mom's?"

"Yeah. I wanted you and I to have some alone time, if you know what I mean." I felt my cheeks flushed crimson.

He shot me a lopsided smirk-grin, his eyes immediately smoldering. "I do know what you mean."

As if on cue, Alice strolled into the living room at exactly the wrong time.

Not one to let pregnancy squelch her fashion sense, she wore a long broomstick skirt, and a denim blouse stretched tightly over her swollen belly. She completed her look with a Concho belt sitting impossibly low on her hips, underneath her bump. She looked absolutely trendy; the poster child for 1990's apparel, complete with an ante partum flair.

"Hey Edward." Her voice lacked enthusiasm, but I was just thankful she was being civil.

His eyes were completely entranced on her stomach, wide with surprise. "Wow."

She glanced down to where his eyes remained. "Yes, Edward, I am six months pregnant with twins. Gawk all you want."

"I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared. Hadn't seen you in a couple of months."

"Yep, it grows everyday." She rubbed her belly. "They say there is only 2, but I swear it could be quintuplets."

"You look pretty," he told her sincerely.

This time Alice blushed as her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered. "Thanks."

"And I like your clothes too," Edward added with a smile.

She smoothed the fabric of her shirt over her stomach. "Just trying to avoid the frumpiness that all preggos fall victim to. Not gonna let it happen."

"I'd expect nothing less."

She blushed again, and with a deep breath turned her attention to her purse sitting on the coffee table. She was clearly flustered by Edward's props.

"So have you heard anything about med school, Edward?" Alice questioned him, no doubt changing the subject, as she dug through her totally unorganized purse. "Bella has been dying to hear about it. She makes me pray with her every night that you'll get into school here."

Strangely, Edward grimaced, in a way that Alice likely didn't notice, but I certainly did.

"That's the plan anyway," he answered her in a weird voice, sounding like he was a bad actor reading a script.

I tried to catch his eye, but he continued to look at Alice.

"Believe it or not," she continued on, oblivious to any weirdness, "I wouldn't mind having you around, either. Once the twins arrive, having my own on-call doctor would rock."

He smiled uneasily. "I won't be ready to be anyone's on-call doctor…at least for a few years anyway."

"You're a quick learner, Edward. We'll have you whipped into shape in no time. Well, kids, I'm off. It's Sulley time."

"Sully time?" Edward pointed his question to me.

"_Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. _Your mother and Alice have a thing for one of the characters_." _

"Your mother and Alice _and your girlfriend_, she means," Alice added promptly.

Edward faced me with his eyebrows arched high.

"What can I say, Sulley's all rugged and mountainy? What girl wouldn't have a thing for that?"

"What am _I_ then?" he asked in mock frustration, coming toward me.

"You're all that and a bag of chips," I commented fiestly through a smile, as his arms encircled me and pulled me close.

"And _now_ would be the time for my exit." Alice groaned from across the room.

With our arms wrapped around each other, Edward and I both looked her way.

"Have fun tonight, Alice," I said through a sheepish smile.

"I'd say the same to you, but I can see you don't need any encouragement."

With that, as her skirt fanned around her, Alice made a dramatic, albeit, waddling exit-leaving a strong trail of Calvin Klein's Obsession in her wake.

"She really does look good," Edward commented, still looking in the direction of Alice's departure. "She is like all belly."

"I know, she is still itsy bitsy Alice with a gigantic beach ball in front."

"So bed rest?"

"Yep. She's pretty much down, except showers and meals and the occasional jail break-as she calls it."

"That's gotta suck."

"She's taking it surprisingly well. There isn't much she wouldn't do for those babies."

"And you?"

"What?"

"How are you holding up? The less she can do, the more that falls on you."

"I am fine. She's not a bad patient...all bark and no bite. And your mom has been so helpful. Between the 3 of us we're making it."

"You are amazing, Bella, amazing." He looked down at me, his eyes intense and ablaze.

"She'd do the same for me."

Edward cocked his head and pursed his lips, wearing skepticism plainly on his face.

"She would," I demanded unconvincingly.

"Like I said, you're amazing."

He leaned down and brushed my lips with a feathery kiss that just about undid me. Then he plopped down onto my couch and pulled me down with him. His strong arms enveloped me and I let my head relax in my place of all comfort, on the plane of his chest. I breathed him in, as I let my ear get reacquainted with his heartbeat all over again.

"Just think, hopefully you'll be here with us soon, just like Alice said," I giggled, "and she can take advantage of you, along with Esme and me. Alice is equal opportunity in that way."

Edward's body stiffened slightly underneath me for a second or two, before it relaxed again. "She sure is," his low voice rumbled.

"So did you have a good flight?"

"Smooth and easy. I slept through most of it, until the baby on the row over starting pitching a fit."

"That happens to you every time you fly, doesn't it?"

"Sure seems like it."

"I like your stubble." I ran my hand over his scruff, while re-memorizing his jaw line. "It's such a mountainy and granola look."

"Like…what was his name? Tulley?"

"Sulley. His name is Sulley. And yes, your scruff is very Sulley-esque."

"The scruff is really just laziness on my part," he admitted.

"Well, I like it. Only problem with it is the whole chaffing issue." I leaned in and grazed his lips with mine, just to illustrate what I meant. "See. Now I have mild stubble burn."

He ran his fingers over my lips, sending a thousand chills up my spine. "I can't be giving my best girl stubble burn, can I?" He ran his nose up and down the side of my neck, then across my jawbone.

"You'll hear zero complaints from me," I mumbled, delighting in his touch. "But I must say, when you get into school here, which you will, and _finally_ move home for good I'm going to start demanding a regular shaving routine."

He stopped his glorious nuzzling and I felt his entire body tense beneath mine once more. I ignored it the first time, but I couldn't ignore it again.

"What is it?" I asked him, strangely panicked, as I pulled away from his chest so I could look him in the eye.

"What is what?"

"You're acting weird."

"No, I'm not," he laughed, as he tried to pull me back down toward him.

I resisted his pull, and positioned myself next to him on the couch.

"You are too. A minute ago your body went all tense and just now you did it again. And before that, your face did this weird twisty thing when Alice mentioned medical school. I've known you your whole life. If I say you're acting weird, you're acting weird. And you are."

"Overreact much?"

Picking up a throw pillow, I hit him on the shoulder with it. "I'm not overreacting. I just know something's up. And I will sit here and pout until you tell me what is it."

"Do we have to do this now? If I'm being honest, there are other things I'd rather be engaged in right now." He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively, tugging me toward him.

"Yes, we have to _do this now_." I employed air quotes, standing my ground. "I know something is on your mind. You might as well tell me now, if you ever hope to _engage in other things_."

"Fine, Bells," he huffed. "I really didn't want to get into this tonight. I've missed the hell out of you and I just want to be with you. Just you and me. But if you insist, which I see that you are, we'll go there."

"Go where exactly?" I felt the panic creeping up again.

"I need to talk to you about something," he told me soberly.

I felt the bile rising in my throat, and my stomach lurching within me. "What's wrong?"

"Relax, babe." He pulled me toward him and plated a kiss on my head. "Look at me."

I cast my frantic gaze his way, and met his eyes with mine. "I just have a feeling of dread all of the sudden. I can't help it. You know how I am," I managed.

"I do know how you are and I love you for it. But please don't get upset. I haven't even told you what I have to tell you yet."

I swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times, steeling myself. "You're right. I'm sorry. Please go on."

I stared at him with fearful expectation.

"So, I got my medical school acceptance letters."

My stomach lurched into my throat. "You didn't get accepted here did you?

Lowering his eyes, he shook his head.

"Oh Edward, I'm so sorry. You did get accepted somewhere, right?"

"I did."

"Well that's good news!" I forced out, while inside I was reeling that he hadn't gotten into the school at University Health Science Center, which was literally five minutes from my house. It was Edward's number one choice of schools, not only because it would bring him back to Esme and me, but also because it was a legitimately good medical school. It was the school I had just assumed he'd get into and attend. This assumption was made because we'd been through hell for so many years living apart. I figured life owed it to us and it was time the story of Edward and Bella caught a break.

He wouldn't look me in the eyes. His gaze was still cast downward, and he was clenching and unclenching his jaw, as he always did in stressful situations.

"Are you…are you embarrassed about it?" I asked him cautiously. "You'd

never need to be embarrassed in front of me. I'm your biggest fan, Edward. Any school that wouldn't pick you is missing out."

"No, Bella, I'm not embarrassed," he whispered, his eyes still riveted to his lap.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

He raked his hair agitatedly, and his lips were tight. Still looking down, still

avoiding my eyes, he spoke quietly. "Bella, I did something really stupid."

"Wh-what did you do?" I squeaked out, as my heart lodged in my throat.

He exhaled loudly and clamped his eyes shut. When he reopened them, they were wrought with fret. "I…I didn't apply at University Health Science."

"_What_?"

"I said I didn't apply here."

I felt as if I'd been kicked in the gut. My heart raced erratically in my chest, and I felt disconnected from the ground below me. Several seconds passed before I could possess the use of speech. "H-how can this be?"

"I can explain myself." He put his hand on my forearm, but I instinctively shook it off.

"How can there possibly be an explanation? You told me you applied. You told me it was where you wanted to be. You told me our someday was closer than ever."

"Just please give me a chance to explain myself."

"If you think you can explain how you could let me believe something completely untrue for months, go for it, Edward. If you think there is a feasible reason why you would make a huge decision without letting me in on it, explain away," I spat out.

"Bella, please calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Edward!" My voice was on the rise.

"You're yelling at me, Bella. Can we please talk about this like adults?"

"An _adult_ wouldn't have done what you did. Not only does this affect me, what about your poor mother? She talks about you coming back home everyday. She is living for it, Edward. What about _her_?"

He grabbed at his hair and rested his head heavily in his hands. "I didn't apply because of my dad, okay?"

"Wh-what's_ he_ got to do with this?"

"He has this friend who is the dean of admissions at UHSC. He wanted to put in a call to, quote, unquote _leverage his connection_ for me. Bella, the thought of that sickened me. Taking anything from my dad. Being connected to him in any way, absolutely sickened me."

"So you tell him not to call his friend."

"I did. He was very insistent about it. Said putting in a good word was the least he could do for his son."

"There are worse things than getting a leg up, Edward."

"Maybe there are, but at the time I couldn't think of much worse."

"How about not being with your girlfriend for three more years?" I hissed, literally in a state of disbelief that this conversation was taking place.

"Bella," he sighed heavily. "The only way I could be sure his influence had nothing to do with my admission was to not apply. It made sense to me at the time. It seemed like the only option."

"I _can't_ believe you are doing to this to me." Hot, angry tears escaped my eyes and ran down my face. "After all we've been through, you go and make a huge decision like this without thinking to consult me."

"It wasn't like I didn't think of you, Bells. The fact is you are out of school now. Nurses are needed everywhere. I knew you could eventually come with me wherever I got in, and I figured you'd be more than happy to."

"You just figured that did you? And I guess you forgot to factor in my pregnant best friend, whose parents have abandoned her?"

"I thought you'd get Alice squared away once she has the twins and then you could come."

"Get her squared away?" I shot back incredulously. "Like it's that simple. Have you any idea what's ahead for Alice. Being pregnant is the easy part compared to caring for newborn twins."

"Isn't that _her_ problem, Bella? Why are you obligated to help her raise those babies?"

"Because she is my friend. Because she needs me. Because I love her. Because I already love those babies."

"What about me? What about us? I need you too."

"I get that, Edward, I do. But this would all feel much different if you hadn't intentionally kept me in the dark. Do you realize I've been hoping against hope for months for something to happen that could _never _come to be? Something that could never come to be due to a choice _you_ made, because at the time it made sense to you."

"I know I should have talked to you. I just reacted. But you know how it is with my dad. He gets to me like no one else. I'm never clear headed when it comes to the guy."

"Don't you dare put this on him," I insisted harshly.

"What would you have done had I applied here and not gotten in? For the sake of argument, answer me that."

"We would have figured it out," I answered him simply.

"So you admit it's something we can figure out?"

"Hypothetically, yes." I punctuated it with a curt nod of my head.

"I got in to school at Fort Worth, Bella. That's like 5 hours away, which is totally do-able."

"You're right, it is. But that isn't the point, Edward."

"So it's about making a point now?"

"No. It's about you lying to me. It's about your ability to make a monumental decision that affects us both, without thinking to talk to me about it. _That's _what it's about."

"Come on, Bella, cut me some slack. I made a mistake."

"I don't think I'm being hard on you here. To expect honesty and consideration from my future husband is not out of line. I mean, Edward, you came to town and freaking pretended to have an interview at the medical school. That…that was a calculated, planned out lie. What do I do with that?"

"I was going to tell you the truth that weekend," he recounted feverishly. "I swear I was, and then I got here and you were so happy, and I hadn't seen you happy since your dad died. I couldn't find it in me to break the news to you."

"So you staged a fake interview?"

"I didn't stage anything. I just left the house for a couple of hours."

"And then came home and told me how well it went. You lied to my face! You lied to Esme's face."

He looked down at the ground shamefaced. "I'm not proud of that, Bella. I was in over my head."

"To say the least."

"I should have come clean sooner, and I know that. But look at it this way. I could have just told you that I did apply but didn't get in. I chose to be forthright with you when it was all said and done. That's worth something, isn't it?"

"Well, give the boy a medal," I seethed in a voice dripping in sarcasm.

"I screwed up, okay?" Edward pounded his fist into the coffee table.

I could see on his face that he immediately regretted responding like that. He clamped his eyes shut and his nostrils flared as he took several concerted breaths. Then his face twisted in anguish. He fell to his knees and grabbed my hands firmly. His pleading green gaze could have burned a hole in me.

"I'm an idiot, Bella. I messed everything up. I promise you there isn't anything you could say to me that I haven't already said to myself. Can you please just forgive me here? I don't know what to do."

"I'll always forgive you, Edward. We've done a whole lot of crappy things to each other in twenty-two years, and we always forgive. That's not the problem."

"What is, then?" he asked me wearily.

"I can't trust you."

"Come on, Bella. You don't mean that."

"I think I do," I admitted quietly, as the truth of it pressed down on me. I shut my eyes as the room—and my life—spun out of control.

"You have trusted me our whole lives and you're going to let_ one_ lapse in judgment change that?"

"It wasn't just a lapse in judgment, Edward. You _chose_ to mislead me for months on end, and now I can't help how I feel."

"Yes you can. You _choose _to trust me."

"I wish it were that easy. What you've done…it's big, huge. It changes our whole future. I never really got a say when you moved to Colorado. It was a decision you made and one that, for the most part, I chose to live with. Our future…I was _supposed_ to get a say in that. You owed me that much."

"You're right." He conceded with a slow, tired shrug.

"And when you don't tell me the truth, and you don't involve me in your decisions, what does that say about what I mean to you?"

"It says nothing. You're reading too much into it."

"It says everything, Edward."

His eyes locked onto mine. I felt fresh tears slipping down my cheek. He reached up to wipe them away.

"How do I make this right, Bella?"

Holding his gaze, I simply shook my head.

"_How_ do I make this right?" he asked me again, this time more insistently.

"I'm not sure you can."

"You're being ridiculous. This is you and me we're talking about. We've made it through much worse. This is just something else to get through, and we will." His tone was unyielding.

"You're not hearing me, Edward. You're not seeing how much this has hurt me…how much damage it's done."

"I do hear you, and I do see how hurt you are. I'm sorry, Bells. I'm so sorry. Just tell me how to fix it. I need to know how to fix it."

He laid his head on my lap. My fingers itched to reach for his bronze-brown hair, but I didn't allow it.

"You can't just snap your fingers and fix this one, Edward. You want to put a Band-Aid on it and just move on. You're not seeing the bigger picture."

"Then enlighten me," he muttered wearily.

"Our trust is broken," I whispered once more. "What is a relationship without trust?"

"We _have_ trust," he insisted weakly, looking up at me.

"_You_ may have trust. Which is because I've always been honest with you. About Riley, Jacob, not being able to handle the distance. Even when it killed me to be honest with you, I was, because I know it's the foundation for everything."

"So it's agreed, you're a better person than me," he added flippantly through a deep exhale.

"No, I'm not."

He pushed up from his knees and sat down on the coffee table in front of me. He bent forward, resting his arms on his thighs, and engaged my eyes fiercely with his. "What do you want from me, Bella? Tell me and I'll do it."

"I want to be able to know that someday down the road you won't hide big decisions from me. That if you're not happy about something between us you'll have the guts to tell me about it. That you'll tell me _anything_, everything, no matter what. And right now, I don't know that."

"This is not happening," Edward mumbed under his breath, as he ran his hands briskly over his face.

"I wish it weren't."

"What now, Bella? You say I can't fix it. So, what do I do?" He tugged at his hair over and over.

"I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" His lips twitched into a wistful smile. "We're together. We love each other. We want to marry each other, and you say you don't know."

"I don't know," I repeated softly, amazed to have found any voice at all.

Edward stared unseeingly ahead of him for half a minute, then he slowly rose from the coffee table. As he side scooted his way out from between the table and sofa, he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of my head. "Why don't you call me when you do know? Because right now, we're not getting anywhere."

His posture, even his tone told me he was clearly upset, but I doubted he had clued in to just how troubled I was. Nor did he understand how much he had hurt me. That I wasn't just going to get over this one by spending a little time apart.

As he started to walk away, I grabbed his hand firmly, affectively stopping him in his tracks. Our eyes connected for several beats, aggrieved and distraught.

"Why?" I whispered.

"Why what, Bella?"

"Why won't you choose me?" I whispered again.

"Seriously?"

"Why won't you choose me?" I asked him louder, dropping his hand.

"_Why won't you choose me_, Edward?" My voice escalated out from under me. Finally having gotten to the heart of matter, I went from sad to furious in a blink. The anger felt right. It felt justified.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edward asked me, bewildered. He looked at me as if I'd just announced I was an alien from another planet.

"It means exactly what it sounds like it means," I snapped, deeply incensed by the entire scenario.

"Bella, you should cool off. _We_ should cool off. Otherwise we'll say things we don't mean."

"Or maybe I'll say exactly what I need to say," I challenged him.

"Fine." He made a production of sitting down beside me on the couch. "Just get it off your chest then."

"Don't patronize me, Edward." My voice was intolerant and flat.

"I'm not. I can just tell you have something to say. I'm asking you to tell me what you need to say."

Exhaling loudly, I gnawed on my bottom lip, fully knowing what I needed to say, but clueless as to how to convey it.

"It's just that it always comes down to the same thing, Edward. Just like two years ago when we broke up the first time. The things you do…the things you_ don't_ do make me feel like you're not choosing me. _ Really_ choosing me."

"That's ridiculous. I have given myself to you. You own my heart. I am devoted to you. What more can I give you, what more can I do to show you that?"

"You could've called me about medical school. You could have let me be a part of that decision. Even if you were determined not to apply here, you could have warned me. Given me time to mentally plan for something different." I answered him all too quickly.

"I think we've already established I did _everything_ wrong in that situation."

"But it's more than that. Choosing me, choosing _us_ would have meant you couldn't have imagined making that kind of decision without me…that you couldn't have handled lying to me for so long. _How_ did you handle lying to me like that? How did you handle lying to your _mother_ like that! What are you going to tell her?"

"I'll tell her the truth."

"And you'll break her heart like you broke mine. How was it so easy for you to mislead the two women who love you most?"

"You're making it sound like I had some kind of diabolical plan to pull the wool over your eyes. Like I schemed it all."

"Did you?"

"Are you really asking me that?" His jaw was literally slack. "Bella, I think you are very emotional right now, very reactive."

"Maybe I am, but I can't shake this feeling that your actions are telling," I told him determinedly. "You chose that trail over me for years. This time you chose your pride issues over me. What's next? What will come before me next time, Edward?"

"Stop saying that!"

"When will you choose me, Edward? _When_?" I practically yelled it this time. I felt my heart race, and heard it pound in my ears. I felt my blood rush to the top of my head.

He looked up at the ceiling as he tugged on that crazy hair. When he focused back on me, I expected to see fury in his gaze, yet his eyes were as somber as I'd ever seen them.

He scanned my face slowly, stopping at my eyes. "Bella, if you can't see that I've already chosen you, we have a problem."

I took pause, taking in the gravity of this evident truth. "Yes, Edward, we do."

The room became deathly, eerily silent. He sat rigidly before me. A nervous uneasy tension, unlike any we'd ever shared, buzzed between us. I felt like vomiting, hitting him, and throwing myself at him all at once.

"I don't know how to convince you that I love you. That I have chosen you," he whispered after several seconds. "The fact that you've never really believed that kills me."

He turned to face me, his green eyes plaintive and bright with tears. "It absolutely _kills _me."

"Believe me, Edward, it kills me too."

"What will it take for you to not question my devotion to you?"

"I want you to choose me."

He shook his head with his eyes firmly set on me. Clearly flustered, he said in a very pointed voice, "I _have_ chosen you, Bella."

"You don't have the right to be frustrated with me, Edward. You dropped a bomb on me today. I'm just trying to be honest with you about how I feel." Then against my better judgment, I added under my breath, "But then again, that may be a foreign concept to you."

"That's a low blow, Bella."

"Your deceit was a low blow too."

Edward, visibly agitated, shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Anxiety was almost palpably radiating from his body.

"Do you want for us to be honest with each other or not?" I asked him firmly.

"Of course I do."

"Well here's the honest truth, Edward. How do I know if you really want to be with me? Maybe you knew all along I couldn't move, because of Alice's pregnancy."

"Unbelievable," he sighed out.

"You only seem happy when there are hundreds of miles between us. When you can come see me here and there and put in your phone calls. Maybe that's how you like it? Maybe having more with me terrifies you?"

"Don't even go there."

"Why not? What if it's the truth?"

"Its _not_, Bella!" Once again, he slammed his hand down on the coffee table, so hard I actually looked to see if he'd damaged it. The sound of his palm crashing against the wood reverberated, filling the air with a strange sense of hostility.

Edward shut his eyes, presumably to gather himself.

"You say it's not true, but the fact that part of me wonders if it might be true scares me to death, Edward. There are times when I sit and wonder how you could choose to live hundreds of miles from me for four years. I wonder if there's someone else in the picture. I wonder if you're going to call and dump me at any given moment."

"So we're back to the trail? You really want to revisit that, because we've always had such success dealing with it in the past?" Edward added, in cynical tone. "And you actually think I've been with someone else? Do you even know me at all?"

"I'm just being honest."

"You want honesty?" His eyes were wide and frantic. "I'll tell you what scares me. Feeling like I'm always being auditioned. That everything I do or don't do is being tallied by you. I'm terrified I'll never measure up, Bella."

"It's not like that."

"Well, I can't help how I feel either," he resigned.

We sat in a heavy unbearable silence again. I was painfully aware of every rise and fall of his chest; utterly aware of every second that ticked by with no words spoken—no resolution offered.

Finally, his voice, course and low, filled the room. "We clearly have some issues here, Bella, and I don't have a clue what to do about them."

"I don't either."

"I need for you to trust me. To trust that I've chosen you."

"I want that too, Edward_, _but our relationship feels…it feels broken."

"So we…we do the hard work. We fix it," he offered desperately.

"I want to do the hard work, but I am telling you right now I_ cannot_ bear the thought of trying to deal with our problems while living apart. I think we have problems in the first place _because_ we've been apart for so long."

"Then you make the move to Fort Worth with me. We'll work it out together. Finally, you and me, day in-day out." He cast his eyes my way, hopeful yet full of apprehension.

"You know I can't move, Edward. Alice needs me."

He paused for several moments, before quietly adding, "Then maybe you're not the only one whose not being chosen?"

I turned to face him, to grab his eyes with mine, only to find them wet with tears. I too, was crying.

"Edward," I breathed out.

"Am I not right? We're both making choices here. Did you ever talk to me about your decision to take Alice in and basically support her through and after the pregnancy?"

"I didn't need to talk to you to know how you felt about it."

"Regardless, did you consult me? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but that decision affected our future too."

"You're twisting my words."

"Not really, Bella. I'm just stating the facts."

"Or making a point."

"I'm just saying that you've done some things without talking to me too. "

"It's not the same," I pointed out calmly. "Besides, you were supposedly coming home. If that had been the case, what I did with Alice wouldn't have had any bearing."

"We could go in circles about this all night," Edward acquiesced, in a voice not much louder than a whisper. "What we need to talk about, to figure out right now, is what are we going to do. What _are_ you we going do?"

"I have no idea," I admitted sadly, looking down at my lap. Suddenly the idea of taking in his eyes, was unthinkable—a certain torture.

"There's got to be a way to make this right," he scrambled, in a voice that I was sure was meant to sound resolute, but came out as doubtful as I felt.

After a long stilted pause, during which neither of us looked in the other's direction, I said the only thing that I could.

"I can't do this anymore tonight, Edward. I'm just done. I don't think you should stay here tonight either."

"Bella…no. Please, I know we can…," he started in a panic.

I couldn't let him finish. "Just go, Edward," I firmly resigned.

Our gazes finally connected. He searched my eyes frantically, almost hopefully. After seconds, his face fell—those beautiful emerald eyes losing their light in an instant. With that, Edward got up, in a posture of defeat, never taking his confounded eyes off of me.

He began to walk away but stopped short of the doorway. His head was dropped low, and he ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Just know that I do love you, Bella. No matter what I've done…how I've messed up, I love you. Forever and a day. I mean it."

Before he turned to go, I saw a glimmer of cautious expectation in his eyes. He stood still for a few moments longer with the doorknob in his grasp, as if he was waiting for me to stop him. Waiting to hear me say that we could work it out. Waiting for me to say anything that might mean things were going to be okay.

As tears filled my eyes, I simply nodded my head. I didn't offer him the words he needed to hear, because I couldn't, with any honesty, utter them.

Quietly, Edward finally left the house, leaving me by myself with a broken heart. When I heard the front door close, I numbly walked to my bedroom and one by one, blew out all twenty candles I'd lit and placed around the room. I turned off the music I'd picked, specifically because it was perfectly romantic. And I put the cork back into the wine that was chilling at my bedside.

I sat in my dark bedroom, the scent of candles still lingering in the air, alone with my thoughts. I replayed words that had been spoken by Edward, words said by me, and I couldn't wrap my brain around any of it. Our night—our relationship-had taken a tragic turn. All of it so different than how I saw it playing out hours earlier, when I'd added special touches to my room, with a thousand butterflies occupying my stomach.

I was drawn to my window by an unseen force. Pulling the curtain back, I immediately spotted Edward under Our Tree, just where I knew he'd be. He leaned up against the trunk heavily, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands played with the grass idly, his body still and motionless otherwise.

As kids, he and I had measured the distance from our houses to Our Tree. It was approximately 17 child-sized paces from my house to the Sycamore, and 20 steps from Edward's window. Yet that night, as I settled into my bay window seat, and quietly watched him there like some kind of voyeur, it felt like the distance was immeasurable, unquantifiable, and insurmountable.

I wanted to believe we were just in the middle of a lover's quarrel, nothing that a bit of space and time couldn't quickly mend. I wanted to believe we could get through it, as we had so many other things—seemingly more devastating things. Yet, deep in my gut, I recognized a fissure between Edward and I, profound and raw. Perhaps it had always been present to some extent, yet it was deeper and infinitely perilous that night. It was something that couldn't be glossed over or simply chalked up to a moment's foolishness. Rather, this fissure I feared—I knew-might end up being the downfall of us.

* * *

Edward and I met up under Our Tree the next day. We continued to hash things out in a conversation that was excruciatingly stilted and tense…excruciatingly dead ended. After several soul-draining, heart wrenching hours we didn't get anywhere. Out of options, we finally decided to go our separate ways for the time being, and give the relationship some space. I knew, as I'm sure he did too, that _getting some space_ was just code for a break up…at least that had been the case the last time we'd given it space. But calling it what it actually was felt like a death, and I didn't have it in me to admit what he and I shared had flat lined.

When Edward and I parted ways that afternoon, I, completely captivated, watched him walk away. I took in his beautiful brownish bronze hair that shone like a copper penny in the right sun. I memorized his casual athletic swagger that—unbeknownst to him-had caused many a girl, including me, to swoon. I let my eyes follow the line of his jaw-sharp and angular. I took in the breadth of his shoulders and the ideal taper of his waist. Then I looked down at his hands, so strong and capable, yet perfectly tender when it came to comforting me…touching me.

I painstakingly took in every detail about Edward that day, scrutinized his every move, for one reason and one reason alone. I was fairly certain the next time I laid eyes on him we would no longer be an _us_. The next time we came together, everything would be devastatingly different between us. I was desperate to hold onto-to never forget-what Edward Masen looked like when he was young and vibrant. What he looked like when he was beautiful and flawless. The way he looked when he claimed he'd love me forever and day. And most importantly, the way he looked when he was mine.

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**the end is near. I am thankful you are reading this. having readers makes writing it that much more enjoyable! I will do my best to not let you down as we wrap this up!**


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer owns all.

**author's note: Our Tree will alternate between the year 2000 (which for all practical purposes is present day) and years past. This story is AU, all-human.**

Thanks to my beta, klarsen18! She really helped me through my writer's block with her support.

**I cannot apologize enough for the lapse in posting. I hit a wall and simply needed a respite. I was so worried there would be major flouncing of Our Tree, but I hope you will stick with it! The next chapters will come more quickly, this I know.**

This chapter is transitional but important...sort of a bridge chapter to the final chapters. And guess what? This is the final flash back chapter! Check out my blog (link is on profile page) to hear Alice and Jasper's song and to see a pic of "my" Jasper.

**To catch you up (since it's been a month since I posted)...Edward and Bella have broken up b/c he lied to Bella about medical school admissions. She still loves him but can't be with him when she doesn't trust him. This is especially sad since Edward will be going to medical school in Dallas which is only 5 hours from Bella. Alice is majorly preggo wiht twins and she has this "distaste" for one of her docs, Jasper Hale. **

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**Chapter 26 takes place in 1998 and flows into 1999, which willl bring us right into what is considered present day for Our Tree.**

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**Chapter 26: My Work is Done (1998 into 1999)**

My relationship with Edward did the inevitable slow fade. Neither of us was willing to out right close the book on us, so we went through the motions for several weeks—long distance as usual. Steadily, the phone calls became fewer and farther between, until they were the exception and not the rule. We both knew what lay at the end of the road, but we took our time getting there, which was much more painful than a clean break.

Finally there came a day when I just knew it was over. _ Over_ over. It was then the true grieving began, where I walked around feeling as though I'd lost an arm, or I'd been gutted. It was the strangest of things, to be in love with someone completely and fully, but to not be with him. It was of my own making, the result of my own choices, but as painful as it was, I knew it was the right decision.

I spent my days working like a dog at the hospital, picking up extra shifts when Esme was available to help with Alice, who was still bed bound. I threw myself into preparing our home for the twins that would soon make their appearance, and purchasing baby clothes and necessities. I juggled all that while making sure Alice got to her many doctors appointments and nonstress tests with Dr. Garcia and, per Alice, that judgy Dr. Hale.

She was still extremely wary of Jasper Hale, and I just couldn't wrap my brain around why. He had been nothing but kind and respectful to her, but she claimed he was only judging her, even it was "purely nonverbal."

My personal experiences with the guy, especially one interaction in particular, had revealed to me what an intuitive, sympathetic spirit he was.

One day, while Alice was undergoing her thrice weekly fetal monitoring in their office, I ran into Dr. Hale in the hallway.

"How's it going, Ms. Swan?" he said in his smooth drawly voice.

"Very well, Dr. Hale. And please, just call me Bella?"

"Absolutely," he agreed through a grin, revealing two deep dimples.

"So you're enjoying your fellowship here?"

"Oh, it's been great. Dr. Garcia is one of the best in his field. I've enjoyed his patients too…especially that Alice." The apples of his cheeks flushed crimson, and I could see it all over his face—the last part had slipped out.

"She's amazing," I smiled sympathetically. "I couldn't be prouder of how she's handled this…this curve ball."

"Well, you girls are quite a team. I can sense the depth of your friendship."

"Yep, since we were in fourth grade we've been thick as thieves."

"She's lucky to have you, Bella. I've seen girls try to go it alone. A lot of them make it, but it's really hard on them. Between you and Ms. Esme, Alice has a great support system."

"I guess she does," I replied quietly, reflecting on the truth that in actuality Alice and Esme were _my_ support system. I couldn't imagine having made it through the break up without them.

After pausing and silently contemplating for several seconds, Dr. Hale slowly hedged, "Mind if I ask you a question of a personal nature?"

"Sure," I replied, somewhat automatically, before really considering if I minded or not.

"Seems like for about the past 3 or 4 weeks, you've been different. I can't put my finger on it, but something's changed about you, Bella. You seem…oh, I don't know, sad maybe? Is everything okay? Are you okay?" Then, becoming noticeably antsy, he added, "Is everything okay with _Alice_?"

"Alice is fine, Dr. Hale," I offered right off the bat, thinking he might actually be holding his breath in anticipation.

"Good," he sighed with relief. "So, is there something else going on?"

"Well, if you're asking," I paused, strangely warmed to the idea of sharing quite personal information with Dr. Jasper Hale, who for some reason felt like a friend and not just one of Alice's physicians.

"I am," he affirmed with a nod of his head.

"Well…I just went through a break up. It has me reeling, if I'm being honest. If I didn't have Alice and the twins to focus on, I feel like I might fall apart."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse. I've known him since birth, literally. I haven't just lost a boyfriend, it's also like losing a brother…a family member…my right arm."

Dr. Hale's eyes were tight at the edges as he scanned my face. "Any chance for reconciliation?"

"Doubtful," I admitted while looking down, as my throat gathered up in a ball.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I've been there. About two years ago I went through a very painful breakup." His voice lilted the tiniest bit at the end of his sentence. I looked up and found his light blue eyes were sad and faraway.

"But," he added in a brighter tone, his eyes re-engaging with mine, "it gets better. You hurt and you hurt and then one day you can actually breathe. Another day you can smile. Then one day, you realize there's a possibility you might be happy again. That good things might actually be coming down the pike."

I repressed a grin, as I couldn't help but notice that as he spoke of being happy and good things coming, he snuck several glances in the direction of Alice's room.

"Thanks, Dr. Hale. It's nice to know others have lived to tell."

"We have and you will too," he said through a soft smile. "And please, call me Jasper. Dr. Hale is so formal. I don't know what it is, but from the moment I met you and Alice, I felt like we could be friends. At least I hoped so." He bit his lip and once again, looked toward where Alice was.

"I know exactly what you mean, Jasper."

"And Alice…would she know what I mean?" His eyes were narrowed, as he awaited my answer.

I pursed my lips, considering exactly how to respond to the guy, seeing in his earnest eyes, that my answer was paramount to him.

"Alice is pretty overwhelmed. What she's going through…it's like a huge shift for her life and the way she is used to living it. I know her well, and what I'd say to you is give her some time. Who couldn't use a friend, right?"

He pondered my answer for a beat, and then with a quick bob of his head, he said in resolute clipped tone, "Time I've got, and yes, we all need friends."

A nurse, carrying several charts, made her way to him at that point, obviously needing his attention. Jasper gave her a quick look of recognition, holding up his index finger to signal "just a second."

He turned back to me. "So, Bella, looks like I am needed. You keep your chin up, kay?"

"Will do."

"And I'll see you ladies again Friday?"

"Esme will be bringing Alice that day."

"So I'll see you next week some time. You have a good one," he called over his shoulder, as he grabbed the charts and turned his attention to the nurse.

I watched his lanky frame walk away from in the opposite direction. I leaned against the wall and thought how strange our interaction had been. He was Alice's physician, a healthcare professional providing her care, yet we'd taken our relationship to a clearly personal level in a matter of minutes. What was stranger than that was that it felt right…even inevitable, for us to relate as friends. His words, though few, had brought me great comfort. His words, though few, had also confirmed a suspicion that had been nagging at me for weeks. This confirmation was perhaps the strangest thing of all…

Dr. Jasper Hale had a thing for Alice.

* * *

My respect for Alice grew daily, just as her belly did. My tiny friend was literally all twins, spindly arms and legs with a burgeoning midsection that overtook all of her. As she approached her final weeks of carrying the girls, she sat stationed on the couch with pillows supporting her arms, ever with a huge graduated water jug beside her. She pretend-read parenting books, because that's what a soon-to be-mom is "supposed" to do, but really she mostly watched rerun after rerun of _Golden Girls_.

Alice was miserable, as was evident by the way she moved and positioned herself—every physical adjustment was a major feat. Yet, the girl never once complained. She carried herself with a grace that I'd never seen on her before. She was every bit the crazy, talkative friend I'd loved for many years, but there was a new edge to her that tempered her. Alice Brandon wore maturity quite well—far better than I ever imagined.

In the 37th week, Dr. Garcia decided it was time to, as he put it, meet those baby girls. Alice had continually battled blood pressure issues, among other things for most of her pregnancy. Dr. Garcia felt it was time to schedule her delivery date, feeling quite pleased—not to mention surprised-that Alice had carried the girls to week 37. She would have to have a C-Section because twin A was breech.

Alice was okay with this idea, as the idea of "squeezing two watermelons out of her vajayjay" terrified her, but the prospect of having a big scar to mar bikini season didn't thrill her either. Dr. Garcia assured her the scar would be quite low and most swimwear should cover it, but in true Alice form, she was skeptical.

On the morning of the big day, we were due at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. I walked into Alice's bedroom to find her perched on the end of her bed. One hand mindlessly traced circles over her belly, the other gripped the handle of her tomato red suitcase that sat beside her. Her dark eyes were wide and glassy. She stared ahead unseeingly, not even noticing I'd entered.

"Alice, you didn't lift that onto the bed by yourself?"

"No, pregnancy Nazi, I didn't." She employed this lovely nickname for me when I was being overbearing, which was apparently often. "I put it on the bed empty and then filled it. You'll obviously have to carry it to the car for me."

I walked over to her and kneeled down on the ground below her. I immediately begin rubbing her swollen ankles and feet. "Whatcha doing sitting here by yourself like this?"

She focused her eyes on me. "I ran out of breath. It took me like 30 minutes to put stuff in my bag because I kept having to stop to take breaks to catch a breath. On my last break, I sort of sat down and never got back up."

"I thought we had packed that thing already like three weeks ago?"

"We did, but I changed my mind about what to bring. A girl is entitled to change her mind."

"Of course, you are. You just shouldn't have exerted yourself like that."

"Come on, Hitler. We're on our way to the hospital. How much damage could I do at this point?"

I almost argued with her about that, but thought better of it. It was clear Alice had nervous energy, and bed rest had precluded the nesting activities that most pregnant women undertook. Perhaps this last minute packing surge was something she just needed to do.

"So, how are you, Al? Are you…ready?"

"It is what it is." Then she paused, jutted out her delicate chin just a tad, and in a definitive voice added, "But yes, I am ready. I am ready and today is the day I become a mom."

Something about the way she said it—the way she looked so scared but so courageous-caused a tear to spring in my eye and then jump onto my cheek.

"Indeed it is," I choked out.

"Good Lord, Bells, you're _not _crying already." Alice sighed out in exasperation, as her eyes honed in on the moisture trailing down my cheeks.

"I'm not," I declared, looking down and quickly wiping my traitorous tear away.

"You so are!"

I looked back up at Alice, only to find that her face was wet with tears too.

"See what you did, Bella!" She pointed exaggeratedly at her face. "We're not supposed to be crying already!"

"We aren't?"

"The crying comes later!"

"Did you read that in one of your books?" I used air quotes as I said the word _read_.

"Oh, Bells, shut up!" She stuck her tongue out at me playfully.

And just like always, I stuck mine right back out at her for good measure. We both laughed through our tears, which I knew was one of Alice's all time favorite emotions.

I grabbed her hands with mine and squeezed them tight. "I want you to know I'm so proud of you, Alice. And I love you so much."

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She clamped her eyes shut and placed a hand over her mouth. Shiny tears immediately popped out the corners of her closed lids. Half a minute later she reopened her eyes and nodded her head.

After taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out, she fixed her eyes on mine and said to me in a steadfast, yet quiet voice. "Without you I wouldn't be here."

"Alice, you—"

"_Without you_ I wouldn't be here." She said it louder this time. "I mean it, Bella. I couldn't have faced any of it without you. I wouldn't have. If I hadn't know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my Bella would stick by me through it all, I wouldn't have had these babies."

"Alice."

"I would have gone to that clinic that gets picketed all the time, and quietly had it taken care of. And I almost did just that…several times. But now that I'm here," she rubbed her stomach with the gentlest of touches, "I can't imagine not being here. I don't even know them yet, but I'm in wholly in love with them." She looked down at her womb and a tiny smile graced her face.

I put my hand on top of hers.

"So thank you, Bella. Thank you more than you know."

"Alice, you would have done the same for me."

"Would I have?"

"I believe you would have."

She grabbed my hand and held it firmly. "Bells, I know what you've done for me came a great price. Even beyond all the time you've given up and the money you've forked out to help me. You could be in Fort Worth right now, and we both know it."

I grimaced. Just the words _Fort Worth_ tied my insides in a knot.

"It's not that simple. It's not like all I had to do was choose between you and Fort Worth."

"Still."

"Had Edward not pulled what he pulled the decision would have been harder. As it stands, it was a no brainer."

"Even so, I know it was diffcult. I know you want to be there with him. I hear you crying at night."

I promptly looked down at my hands, feeling naked before her. "I miss him. I do, but I know I did the right thing."

"But you're so sad, Bella. Are you sure it was the right thing?"

"Says the President of the anti-Edward Masen club."

She rolled her eyes. "I just want you to be happy, but instead you're stuck here with your knocked up best friend, who you've had to wait on hand and foot for months. Sounds like a stellar time to me."

"It has been my pleasure."

"That's just it," she sniffed. "I know you mean that. You're too good to be true and I don't deserve you, Bella Swan. I will spend the rest of my life attempting to pay you back in every way possible."

"You owe me nothing. Just love those baby girls. That's all I could ever want."

He mouth twitched into a grin. "You are _so, so_ cheesy, but consider it done."

At that point, we heard a car horn coming from outside. I walked to the window and waved to Esme who sat in her old white Buick.

Then I turned back to Alice and clapped my hands for effect. "Your chariot awaits. It's time to birth us some babies!"

With one hand supporting her back, and the other struggling to leverage her body, Alice quite ungracefully dismounted from her bed. Then she began to waddle toward the bathroom. "I know this will shock you, but I have to pee. Meet you at the car?"

"Sure," I groaned out, as I lifted her suitcase—which was apparently full of rocks—off the bed.

She looked over her shoulder, down at her giant piece of luggage. "A girl has to be prepared. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted several choices of going home outfits for mother and babies."

"I love you, Al," I smirked, thinking that somehow she'd made sense of the ridiculously heavy suitcase in a way only Alice could.

With a wink, she replied, "What's not to love?"

* * *

Four hours and twenty seven minutes after we arrived at Filmore Medical Center, Alice was finally wheeled back to the Operating Room. Prior to this change of scenery she was referring to her pre-op room as a holding cell. Needless to say I was quite thankful when they came to get her, because the expletives were flying and she was threatening to pull out her catheter and IV and hand deliver the twins herself—which made absolutely no sense at any level.

I got to be in the O.R. with her, as her "birthing coach," or in the case of a Caesarian delivery, her moral support. Dr. Garcia performed the C-Section, as a team of NICU nurses stood in the wings ready to swoop in grab each twin as they were born. I witnessed the entire thing from the head of the bed, amazed to be watching such a miracle.

As a nurse, I had seen my share of surgeries and all things medical, but witnessing the birth of these amazing little creatures, completely trumped it all. I only thought I loved these babies when they were growing in Alice. It was beyond love at first sight when I actually laid eyes on them, beginning with the arrival of Bella Evelyn—Evie, and then all over again as yet unnamed, twin number two, was born.

They were both pink and beautiful, and they screamed bloody murder at exactly the time you want to hear such screams from a newborn. After they were assessed, weighed and then swaddled in sweet little pink blankets, Alice, though unable to hold the girls yet due to her incision, was given several minutes to look into each of their little eyes. It was a short, but poignant moment—the connection between mother and daughters fully palpable and utterly supernatural.

Then the time came for Alice to be wheeled into postoperative recovery, while the babies would be taken to the newborn nursery.

As they begin to transport Alice away, her dark eyes were wide with fret. "Bella, why are they taking me from them? I can't leave my babies!"

"Sweetie, they have to monitor you for an hour or so. You've had major surgery. Remember the nurses explained the process to us at admission."

"Screw the process. I can't let them just…just separate us like this!"

"They need to make sure you're okay. They have to closely monitor you for a bit, and once they know you're stable—which you will be—they'll let you see the girls again."

"This is ridiculous!" she exclaimed adamantly, attempting to sit up from where she lay. She was still numb from her spinal block, momentarily unmindful of the fresh horizontal incision across her lower abdomen.

"I know it's hard, sweetie," I cooed, as I kindly but firmly pressed her shoulders back down, "but it will be okay."

"This is not okay," Alice demanded.

The nurse, who was attempting to push the stretcher, cleared her throat and gave me the eye.

"They need to take you now, Alice. I want you to look at me, okay?"

Surprisingly, she did as I requested, and fixed her fearful, panicked gaze on me.

"I'm going with the girls. I will be with them every second until you are back in your room. I will watch over them for you until you can do it yourself."

"You're sure?" She questioned me with tear filled eyes.

"Trust me," I whispered in her ear.

"_Promise_ me you'll stay with them?"

"I promise."

Alice gripped my hand as they pushed her stretcher toward the PACU door, and she only released her hold on me when the distance between us demanded we let go.

I then proceeded, with two tiny bundles of pink inside a shared layette, to the newborn nursery where I, along with many new dads, helped the nurses give the twins their first baths. Esme watched through the bay of windows looking in over the nursery and photographed the entire bathing process, just like any proud grandmother, or surrogate grandmother as it were, would.

When Alice was reunited with her babies about forty-five minutes later, I watched her physically decompress—the worry falling off her body the instant she saw the twins once again. My Alice who had spent her life moving from one thing to the next, always looking for excitement and something better, gazed upon her two little girls and I saw it in her eyes. She was finally home.

She cradled a baby in each arm, and the sweet little family had their first real bonding session. A nurse soon came in soon after with two bottles of formula, and we commenced feeding the twins. Alice believed it to be their first feedings, and I didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't.

After we diapered them and laid them back in Alice's arms, Esme and I slipped out of the room for a bit to let mother and babies sleep. I wanted to grab a quick diet Coke, and Esme said she needed to make a couple of phone calls. I chose not to think about who she might be calling.

When I returned to Alice's room twenty minutes later, I was surprised to hear the low rumble of a male voice. I slipped into the vestibule of the room, and immediately recognized it to be Jasper's. I halted in my steps, remaining in the vestibule, where I could see them but they couldn't see me.

"You did really good, Ms. Brandon. _Really_ good." Jasper said quietly, in his endearing drawl.

He was perched on the side of Alice's bed. I somewhat expected to see Alice recoiling from him, but she seemed rather at ease. Somehow, judgy Jasper Hale was sitting quite near Alice Brandon, and she was being warm and friendly. I would've given anything to have arrived a few minutes earlier so I could've seen how Jasper melted the ice. In my eyes, he was nothing short of magical.

Alice scrunched up her nose. "I sort of just laid there, I didn't really do much, except complain a lot and threaten the nurse that had to stick me five times to get this IV started."

Jasper chuckled. "That's understandable. But what I meant was, you did a good job getting these girls to this point. You took bed rest like a champ. Did everything we instructed you to do."

"Not everything, Dr. Hale," she professed sheepishly. "I never completely cut out the caffeine, and sometimes, after I went on bed rest, I snuck out to my favorite shop at the mall to look at all the clothes I used to wear before I became a whale. But not to worry, doc. I only pretend-shopped under the watchful eye of Bella the pregnancy Nazi. She made me get a Lark cart."

"A Lark cart?"

"You know, those motorized carts that older people use at the grocery store?"

"Ahh."

"So see, I wasn't a perfect patient."

"Even so, your infractions weren't too serious," he added lightheartedly.

"I guess not."

"They sure are beautiful, Ms. Brandon," Jasper commented, as he turned his attention to the twins in Alice's arms. "I think this one looks a lot like her mother."

"Her name is Bella Evelyn, but I'm going to call her Evie. I can already tell she's the calmer one. I mean at least so far."

"Evie. I like that. And what's this one going to go by?"

"I don't know yet. I'm sort of stumped. I want to use the name Marie, because it's Bella's middle name, but I haven't landed on what to put with it," Alice explained, her forehead furrowed.

"So they'll both be named after Bella?"

"Definitely. Bella was my saving grace through this whole thing, and I want these two little girls right here to always know how important she is to us."

I heard a lilt in Alice's voice, and I felt my heart lurch into my throat.

"That is an amazing tribute to your friend, Ms. Brandon. But I've gotten to know Bella a bit and I happen to know you've been something of a saving grace to her as well," Jasper added.

Alice paused and then asked him with a tilt of her head, "You think so?"

"I know so," he answered her instantly, their eyes locking for several beats. "So this little beauty here needs a name. And one that goes with Marie?"

"That she does," Alice replied, as she handed the baby over to Jasper. He received the pink bundle without blinking, as if Alice had somehow forewarned him without words.

"Are you open to suggestions?" he asked, as he studied the tiny baby girl in his arm.

"Sure I am, as long as they're good ones."

He looked up at her and one side of his mouth quirked into a half smile. "Well, how about Andie? Andie Marie Brandon. Has a nice ring, right?"

"Hmm…It kind of does," Alice spoke without attempting to conceal her surprise. "I actually like it. Where did you come up with Andie anyway?"

"I've always liked the name," he admitted. "At least since the mid eighties anyway, it's been my favorite girl name."

"Favorite name since the mid eighties, huh?" Alice hedged, with her eyebrows arched high.

"Well…yeah."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with a certain wildly popular movie of the mid eighties, starring a young Molly Ringwald, would it?"

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about." Jasper's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Oh, I think you do," Alice jibed. "Andie Walsh? Poor girl form wrong side of the tracks in love with Blaine, a richie from the other side of town? Star crossed lovers? Any of that ring a bell?"

Jasper stared a hole through the baby he cradled in his arms, still flush cheeked, blatantly refusing to look at Alice.

"Oh, come on, Doctor Hale, you can tell me." Alice touched his forearm and squeezed it teasingly.

Japer's eyes widened a bit and he glanced down at her hand on his arm. A smile crept across his face.

"Fine." He shut his eyes and shook his head. "I loved _Pretty in Pink_ and I might have had a crush on Andie Walsh, but it stays in this room okay? Between you and me and these two little girls here."

"Agreed?" He looked first at the baby in his arms and then at Evie, as if he was asking the question of them. Then he tilted his head up toward Alice, and looked at her from under his lashes. "The girls agree to secrecy, so how about you? Is my secret safe with you, Ms. Brandon?"

Alice gazed back at Jasper with bright eyes and a wide smile that could've lit the room.

"It's safe with me," she commented, zipping her lips. "It stays in this room, Dr. Hale. Between you and me, Evie and Andie, here."

A slow, easy grin split Jasper's face. "Andie."

"Andie it is." Alice's smile mirrored his.

The two of them continued to beam at each other, almost goofily, for several seconds. His soft blues eyes were fixed on hers, and she held his with equal intensity.

"Oh, and Doctor Hale?" She asked him, in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

"Yes."

"Will you call me Alice? I mean you helped me name my baby for goodness sake."

His mouth erupted into another uncontainable grin. "That I will, Alice."

That's when I knew, just knew, something special was happening before my eyes. I simply knew that the four of them sitting there together in room 208 of Filmore Medical, were at the beginning of a journey that would profoundly change each of their lives.

I quietly slipped back out of the room, feeling that to stay there a moment longer would indeed be an intrusion on something intimate. I simply didn't belong there.

I wandered down the hallway, and realized, as I looked for somewhere to camp out for a bit, just how exhausted I was. It had been a long day of waiting, calming Alice, and then giving Evie and Andie a proper welcome into the world. It had been a wonderful day—one of the best of my life—but a draining one at that.

I came to a tiny consult room and thinking it might be the perfect place to rest my weary bones, turned the handle on the door. I was overjoyed to find it unlocked, so I eased it open and slipped inside. The loveseat on the far wall called my name, and I literally I fell onto its faux leather cushions. I let my head fall back and my eyes immediately closed.

The day I'd just lived had been full of images-more vivid, life changing images than I'd ever seen in one twenty four hour period. Yet instead of picturing Evie or Andie, or my best friend Alice as mother, or even the tender scene I'd just witnessed of a potentially precious future, the only thing I saw in my mind's eye was pair of emerald green eyes.

It startled me at first, and I opened my eyes in haste to make the flash of intense, haunting green go away. His eyes didn't leave me though, and instantly thoughts of Edward—everything about him and not just those eyes-found their way to the front of my mind.

I had pushed him away all day, in large part because I was so busy and wrapped up in my role as honorary baby daddy. But Edward had been there with me the entire time, whether I acknowledged him or not. He was ever at the back of my mind, merely one second away from conscious thought, because he belonged in that moment with me. He belonged at that hospital. He belonged in Alice's' room, verbally sparring with her in their almost artful manner. He belonged by my side as I held those precious babies.

My gut instinct after seeing Alice hug her daughters, or after watching Evie stretch her tiny body, or in response to Andie grabbing my pinkie with her tiny fingers, was to call Edward and share every last detail with him. I wanted him to know it all, because it felt like he _should_ know it all.

Yet reality was such that it was his mother who called and let him know the twins had safely arrived. It was his mother who had the privilege of describing what they looked like and how Alice was doing. It was his mother and not me, who relayed all those amazing details to him. And at the moment, at the end of the day in a tiny consult room that smelled of old coffee and pleather, I cried because I missed my Edward. I cried because I missed what could have, and should have been.

* * *

The weeks following Andie and Evie's arrival was a blur of diapers and feedings. I took three full weeks off work. When I had to return to the hospital, Esme who had taken her two weeks of vacation, all but moved into our house. So, Alice ended up having round the clock help for five weeks.

We got a system down, and the twins were on a semblance of a schedule. Evie took to the routine better, but Andie, in her own little precious way, liked to buck it. I had a feeling Evie _looked_ more like Alice, but Andie was definitely her mother's daughter.

We were tired and sleep deprived, but there was a joy in that weariness that we all felt, and that Alice _wore_ from head to toe. She was in her element with those baby girls, and there was not a doubt that they owned her heart and soul.

Alice returned to her job at the rental car place after eight weeks at home. We found a Mother's Day Out for Andie and Evie to attend twice a week, and I tweaked my schedule, such that I could pitch in and watch them too. It broke Alice's heart to be away from them, but the reality was my paycheck alone couldn't cover our expenses any longer. Plus, Alice's pride wouldn't allow her to quote to unquote, mooch off of me any longer.

We became a little family, in our own unconventional way, but I knew we were inevitably going to grow by one member at some point. To Jasper's credit, he waited until Alice was officially no longer a patient at Filmore High Risk Neonatal Clinic before he let his intentions be known. He began to show up at our house, armed with take out and his lazy smile, quite frequently. Alice's face would almost crack—adorned with the widest of grins-when she'd open the door to find him there. Evie and Andie too, responded in like to his presence. Apparently he had the power to turn all three Brandon girls into nothing but mush.

His visits became more and more regular. Then came the constant phone calls, the offers to baby sit, the "triple dates," as Jasper called them, on which he took the three girls on a ride and to eat somewhere that was loud and child friendly.

Jasper courted Alice and her girls, in the loveliest of ways. And though it made no sense as to why he would knowingly walk into such a complicated situation, he was steadfast in his pursuit. After several months—or if I'm being honest, after several days-it was clear to us all that Jasper was head over heels in love with Alice, Evie and Andie.

When Jasper's yearlong fellowship with Dr. Garcia was near its end, he and Alice had been an unofficial couple for over six months. Evie and Andie had never not known Jasper, and they were accustomed to having him around. He cared for them as much as Esme or I did, understanding their routine, personalities and needs as well as anyone. What's more important, was that he understood Alice Brandon's routine, personality and needs better than anyone else, as well.

When he offered Alice a ring and his heart, she took them both, knowing life without Jasper Hale would never really be a life. They made their plans to move to Fort Worth, where he had secured a job as a high-risk O.B./Gyn at a hospital near the projects and low income housing. It was a fast, unusual whirlwind of a romance, but it made more sense to me than anything had in a long, long time. I supported their union whole-heartedly, albeit sadly, as I knew their life change was going to utterly rock my world.

My life had been all about those twins for months on end, and knowing I wouldn't see them everyday broke me. But through my grief, I could see the bigger picture, and I knew Jasper was an integral part of it.

Of course, I didn't miss the irony of it all. Alice and Jasper were moving their family to exactly the area where Edward lived. I'd said no to moving there myself, so I could stay home and care for Alice. And now she was leaving me to go where I could've been. It was one of many sick jokes in the life of Bella Swan.

Alice and Jasper tied the knot in a tiny ceremony at the J.P. They packed up Alice's myriad of clothing, her bedroom furniture and baby gear galore into a U-Haul trailer. Esme and I stood at the curb and held onto one another for dear life as we watched them get into the car to leave us. I refused to even let my eyes rest on the twins in their car seats in the back seat—it would've have been impossible for me to remain upright. So I fixed my eyes on Alice's. She placed her palm on the inside of passenger side window. I placed mine over hers, on the outside of the window, and we held each other's gaze, communicating a lifetime of sisterhood, with one look.

Jasper slowly pulled away from the curb, and I let my hand fall from the window. Alice kept hers there, tears cascading down her face. I offered her a smile and a small wave, as I was overcome with an unexpected notion. I wondered if what I felt was akin to what a parent might feel as their child leaves for college. All I could think of as I watched her head off to her new life was, _my work is done._

My house, just like my heart, became deathly quiet and eerily empty after they left. Not knowing what else to do, I threw myself back into work—taking as many extra shifts as I could wrangle-and I started in on many remodeling and updating projects that my house desperately needed but that had to go on the back burner for so many months.

It wasn't fulfilling in the slightest, but it kept my mind and my hands busy, and that counted for something. I squeezed in many visits to Fort Worth as well, my body literally aching for a glimpse of Andie and Evie, not to mention Alice. It was never enough, and when it came time to load up and head back home, leaving them hurt as if it was the day they moved away, all over again.

I could hardly believe it when the twins turned one. So much had happened in a year, but in so many ways I, myself, was sort of stuck, as if time hadn't advanced. I traveled to Fort Worth for the big birthday bash. It was—in true Alice fashion—the most amazing celebration two little girls ever had. I lost myself in the excitement, but tainting the weekend was the news Alice shared with me on my last day there. Apparently, she had run into Edward a week prior at some trendy restaurant, and he was on a date with a girl. She had contemplated withholding the news from me, but when it came down to it, she believed I deserved the truth—no matter how devastating it might be.

Devastating it was. The news felt like a sucker punch in the gut, managing to inflict the deepest of pain, but to also numb me. I managed to cram the hurt way down for the sake of the birthday weekend, and it wasn't until I got back home that I revisited it, and allowed it wreck me fully. It was a hurt so raw and real, it reminded me of the very day Edward and I broke it off for the last time.

We had been broken up for over a year and I had no claim on him. He had every right to date-to move on with his life as he saw fit-but it felt like a betrayal all the same.

I went into a funk, functioning robotically at best during the day, and crumbling into my pillow at night, unleashing a thousand tears. Alice and Esme knew it had me reeling, but we didn't speak of it much. It was just one of those things we didn't bring up a lot. It wasn't off limits by any means, but dissecting it and re-hashing it from all angles only led me deeper into what Alice called the "Edward vortex." I knew the "Edward vortex" wasn't good for me. They knew it wasn't good for me, so we simply didn't go there.

I suppose I wore my inner turmoil on my sleeve, even though I thought I was a master disguiser, because even shallow Jessica from work commented on how "like emo and totally skinny" I was. She constantly badgered me, wanting to know what happened to "put me in the bell jar." I kept her at bay by avoiding her, and when that was impossible, by supplying vague explanations.

She and several other girls from the floor we worked on consistently invited me to go out and drown my sorrows in alcohol and dancing. I would have rather stabbed myself in the eye with fork, but I finally acquiesced, grudgingly so, just to make Jessica's insistent whining go away. It was on that fateful girls night out that I met Mike Newton for the first time, and the rest, as they say, is history.

* * *

**I promise it won't be a month next time. Please make this an anti-flouncing zone!**


	27. Chapter 27

**We are on the home stretch! I am thankful for those of you who have hung on for this journey. I am still amazed to have readers! Thanks to my beta, klarsen18, and to those of you who drop me reviews...you can't know how awesome it is to get feedback.**

Please check out my profile page...I added a song for last chapter and one for this chapter...the one for this chapter is like my all time fav love song. Please listen to it! Also, I added an entry to my blog (there is a link on my profile page) that has a pic of "my" Jasper.

**Chapter 27 takes place in the year 2000, which is present day for all practical purposes. It has been a month since Bella went to Dallas for "closure."**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Love is Enough**

My god awful peach bathroom became my ultimate focus in life. Taking it from its hideous state to something much better was my therapy. It was expensive therapy when it came down to it, but I would've paid any price had it meant anesthesia from my pain.

Four weeks into the project I was still laying tile and taping and bedding walls—thanks to Carlisle Cullen's patience in teaching me how. My ultimate goal was to create a girly haven of black and white toile with splashes of hot pink. I went outside of the box, for Bella Swan anyway, partly because it was fun. My entire house was soothing and neutral, and in a word, boring. This bathroom would not be.

My other motivation in my design choices was my precious friend who had occupied that bathroom for a short but very poignant time in our lives. The bathroom would scream Alice Brandon. To me, there could be nothing better.

My plan was to spend all my free time, including every Saturday-from sun up to sun down-working on that bathroom. No Saturday was an exception, even if I was bone tired or simply didn't feel like it.

Esme often helped me, as did Carlisle, who was coming into town with increasingly frequency. Working shoulder to shoulder made it so much better for so many reasons. Of course, it decreased my workload, but honestly and more importantly, their companionship eased my broken heart.

In the times when I did work alone, I found that the mindless nature of the manual labor left me a lot of time to think about my life. It wasn't pleasant to face the state of things, but I knew it was necessary. I was tired of living with a broken heart, and I felt I had spent much of my adulthood doing just that. As I saw it, the only way to the other side of my brokenness, was to go through it, which meant letting my thoughts rest there, even when it wrecked me.

As I faced it all in living color, I realized that getting legitimate closure, or whatever the heck it was that I got with Edward, had changed my way of looking at what once was. In a word, I'd been sobered—brutally sobered. I could step outside of our relationship for once in my life, somewhat objectively, and really see my part in it. With this clarity came regrets, wishes for do-overs, and the painful process of facing culpability. As gut wrenching as it was to see my role in the relationship with eyes wide open, it got me closer to healing…to moving on.

One exceptionally chilly day in late February I forced myself to get to work. It was going to be a Saturday of solo work for me, as Esme had a seminar for work that day. All I really wanted to do was brew a pot of coffee, wrap up in my chenille throw and watch taped episodes of _Sex and the City_—which, thanks to Alice—I was completely hooked on. I loved the show, but if I'm being honest, I watched it because I was dying to see if Carrie and Big got their happy ever after.

Will every ounce of willpower I possed, I dutifully threw my hair into a loose ponytail, put on my torn up work jeans and an old threadbare sweatshirt. A Harrison High sweatshirt I'd stolen from Edward, to be exact, which brought back a myriad of memories and made my gut twist, but that I wore anyway because I loved it so.

I was taping off the woodwork in preparation to paint it. I hated the taping off part, so tedious and time consuming, but I knew it was a necessary evil. Something I had to get through so the finished product would be pristine and right.

I heard my phone ring, and for just a minute I considered letting the machine get it. An excuse to stop working, however, was quite appealing, so I quickly snatched my cordless.

"Hello."

"Bells." Alice's soprano immediately brought a smile to my lips, not to mention my heart. "Whatcha doing?"

"I'll give you one guess."

"Project peach bathroom?"

"None other."

"I keep thinking you'll finish that up soon."

"I'm close, and I cannot wait for you to see it. You will love it."

"Well," she paused after drawing out the word, "that's why I'm calling. Jazz has to entertain some colleagues next week. Lots of dinners out and stuff like that. The girls and I were thinking of making ourselves scarce. Perhaps coming to see their favorite aunt and namesake?"

"No!"

"Yep!"

"Oh, Al. Nothing on earth could make me happier. You name the day and I'll be ready."

"Yay!" she squealed loudly. "I thought maybe I could come and lay around the house and have you wait on me hand and foot. You know, just for old time sake."

I could hear Alice's grin through the phone.

"I would gladly do it if it means face time with you, Alice."

"No servitude necessary this time," she chirped.

"Just so you know, the bathroom that you inspired won't be ready."

"I'm not coming to see a bathroom, silly. I need some Bella time, like, pronto!"

"Likewise, my friend. You have no idea how much I will look forward to seeing you. I…I miss you." My voice gave way with emotion, lilting just slightly.

Alice paused for just a second before softly asking me, "How are you my friend? How are you _really_?"

"Better," I answered her honestly. "Better, but still sad. Really, really sad."

"I know, Bells. It's a lot to work through. A lot to…_accept_."

"I feel like I'm going through emotional bootcamp, Al. And I can tell it's going to be a good thing, but it's painful. Really painful. Which is why a visit from my best friend and my amazing nieces is just what the doctor ordered."

"Jazz _did _kind of order it, come to think of it." Alice giggled.

"Well give him a hug and tell him thank you for letting me borrow you."

"I just needed to see you, Bella, and Jasper knows that better than anyone. I just worry so much about you. I'm here, you're there, and I can't keep my eye on you."

"Esme keeps me under close watch."

"I don't doubt it, but I still worry. You know you can call me anytime, right? I don't want you to doing the whole 'Bella Swan suffer in silence thing,' that you're so good at."

"I do call you, Alice. I talk to Esme and Rose about it too. But some of it, a lot of it actually, I just have to muddle through on my own. The Edward Vortex is a complex thing."

"This we know," she promptly agreed.

"And I _will _be okay. As a very wise man, who you just happen to share a bed with, once told me, there will come a day when I realize there's a possibility I might be happy again. That good things might actually be coming down the pike."

"Sage advice indeed."

"It really is," I added thoughtfully. "And I believe in it too. It's just hard to imagine it as my reality just yet."

"Of course it is. But there will come a day when your smile _will_ be real. In the meantime, be gentle with yourself."

"I love you, Alice," I breathed out, touched that she knew exactly what I needed to hear.

"And I love you, my sweet Bells."

"So I'm becoming angsty Bella here, Alice. Can you tell me something happy. How are my girls?"

"Amazing. Tiring. Precocious. Beautiful." Alice paused. "And at this very moment screaming bloody murder at each other in the other room. Bella, I probably need to go referee. Can I call you back in a bit?"

"Absolutely. I'll just be doing what I always do on Saturdays."

"Crank it out, tool time girl. Talk to you soon."

I hung up with my friend, so grateful for the call, so thankful for their upcoming visit. I found having little things to look forward to was crucial for me.

With a sigh, I put down my phone, tightened my ponytail and grudgingly grabbed the roll of painters tape once again. I peeled off a strip and began to place it, just so, along the wood trim.

From the bathroom I heard my front door open and then shut. It occurred to me that perhaps if the interruptions kept coming, project peach bathroom might not be in the cards that day. Needless to say, the notion didn't upset me.

"Esme, you already finished? I'm in the pit from hell," I called out, referring to the nickname we'd jokingly given my project. "But beware. I _will _put you to work."

I heard footsteps make their way through the house, then stop in the hallway. There was clearing of a throat, and it obviously wasn't Esme.

"That you, Carlisle?" I asked, keeping my attention focused on the line of blue painter's tape I was placing along the baseboard. "Didn't know you were coming in this weekend. My threat applies to you too, you know!"

"How about me?"

I proceeded to drop the roll of tape, effectively losing my perfect line of blue. I whipped my head around and there he stood, leaning against the doorframe in faded low slung blue jeans and a long sleeve heather grey t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His intense green eyes found mine and in my shock, I literally sucked in a lung full of air.

"Edward."

"I didn't mean to scare you. I knocked several times and when you didn't answer I tried the door," he explained with a great deal of hesitation. "Hope you don't mind?"

"No, it's fine," I managed, as I stood up and smoothed down my hair and my shirt.

"Nice shirt there," he commented through a grin, as his eyes fell to my sweatshirt.

I instantly flushed red, feeling every bit a thirteen-year-old version of myself.

"I looked for that thing forever, Bells. Never found it. Now I know why. It's the best shirt ever because—"

"It's perfectly worn in," we said in unison.

He smiled and then winked, causing me to blush violently all over again.

Edward then eyed the bathroom from floor to ceiling, as I, unbeknownst to him, eyed him head to toe. I believed him to be a bit thinner than he was a month prior. His hair was grown out long, for Edward anyway, and it had that "thoroughly tugged" look about it.

"Man, this looks awesome. You've done an amazing job, Bella."

I wanted to personally thank him at that point, for breaking my heart and thereby providing me motivation to take on the project purely out of desperation for distraction, but of course I didn't. Instead I explained, "Your mom and Carlisle deserve the props. Without their help I wouldn't be this far along."

"Mom's helping you?"

"A lot. I'm sort of surprised she didn't tell you."

His eyes became tight at the edges. "Um…we haven't talked a whole lot in last month or so, and when we do we're..._careful_ about what we discuss."

"Oh."

I felt somewhat exposed standing there, knowing exactly what he was referring to. In the weeks following his rejection my pain had become less raw, but seeing him there, hearing him refer to our last conversation cryptically, brought it all back.

The air became tense and heavy around us. Completely uncomfortable in his presence, I looked down at my paint and plaster splattered Chucks for several seconds before finding his eyes again. "So I'm pretty sure you're not in town to hunt down your favorite sweatshirt or to check out the progress on my bathroom?"

Predictably, he raked a hand through his hair several times before offering me an answer. "I'm actually here because I needed to talk to you, Bella."

"Couldn't be done over the phone?" I questioned him, not unkindly.

"No, not really."

I wrapped my arms around my midsection tightly. "Okay."

"Can we sit down?"

Whether it was subconscious or not, I couldn't know, but he nodded his head in the direction of Our Tree. I couldn't bear the thought of sitting there with him. I wasn't ready for that.

"Too cold to go outside," I answered him quickly, so thankful for a viable excuse, "but we can sit in the living room if you'd like."

I brushed past him, immediately and mournfully connecting with that crazy energy that always brewed between us. He followed closely behind me as we walked, and with every step my body was alive with awareness of him.

I plopped down in a chair, while Edward sat rigidly on my couch. His eyes poured over my living room and my perfect caramel walls.

"Bella, this sure looks nice. You've really put your mark on this place. It's different enough from the way it was when we were growing up that it probably doesn't…_hurt_ to be here. But it still has the same comfortable feel it always had."

The fact that he just got it…that he understood intimately my trepidation of living there after Charlie died, was exactly why I'd gone to him a month prior, and put so much on the line that day in Dallas. No one would ever understand me the way Edward Masen did.

My heart squeezed in my chest in the truth of it. It was an ache from wanting him so, but knowing that ship had finally, and truly sailed.

"Thank you," I managed in a whisper.

I averted my eyes immediately, but could sense Edward was staring at me. Knowing those eyes were on me unsettled me deeply. They had such power and I feared I was certain to crumble under them.

"Tackling the final project feels good," I forced out. I looked down at the bottom hem of my—his-sweatshirt, that I was mindlessly twisting with my fingers.

"What used to be the god awful peach bathroom, right?"

With inquisition, I looked back up at him. "How'd you know I started calling it that?"

"You spoke of it last time we saw each other."

"Right," I said, with a quick nod of my head. "The god awful peach bathroom has hung over my head for too long."

"Unfinished business has a way of doing that, huh?" he said, appearing contemplative.

"That it does."

"So, Bella, I'm sorry to barge in like this. I just needed to talk to you and it couldn't wait."

"Okay?"

"Back in Dallas, when we last spoke…"Edward paused and stared at me with uncertainty, as if he was making sure I was tracking with him.

My grimace must have clued him in that I was indeed on track, as if it was even possible not to be.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," he finished, eyeing me carefully.

The humiliation I'd felt the day I bared my heart to him suffocated me once again. I wanted to melt into the ground, simply disappear, or perhaps even act like I had no idea what he was talking about.

I knew I needed to behave like the adult I was and face it head on. There were things I'd needed to say to him as well, and having lacked the courage to call or email him, I'd never cleared the air following my visit to Dallas. So I seized the opportunity before me, thinking to take the conversation into my hands might prevent further mortification.

I watched Edward open his mouth to continue on with whatever it was he came to say to me, but I didn't give him the floor.

"I'm actually glad you've brought it up," I interjected quickly, effectively cutting him off. "Edward, I owe you an apology. What I did, it was irresponsible and selfish. I put you in an impossible position and I completely disrespected Tanya. If I caused any tension for you guys, I truly apologize for that."

"Bella, I-" He attempted, but again, I plowed right on through.

"I mean, no matter how I felt, it wasn't okay to barge into your life like that and drop that kind of bomb. It was…it was totally reckless of me. But I thank you, Edward, for being the grown up…for seeing things clearly."

"But—," For a third time, he attempted to articulate a thought, and for a third time I wouldn't allow it.

"This past month has been good for me, Edward. I've been able to look at our relationship, the whole relationship, and recognize things I never saw before."

"Like what?" he asked me quietly. I could see resignation there, as if he knew he might as well let me say my peace.

"Like the fact that I am programmed to look for the raincloud in the silver lining. I _expect _things to go wrong. I wait for things to go south. I wait for people to let me down. And sometimes I beat them to the punch because it hurts less, or so I tell myself. I am ashamed of how often I pushed you away, Edward, or made a situation worse than it had to be. I must have been hell to be with. You must have spent your life walking on eggshells around me."

"I wouldn't say that."

"I would. I mean everything is so clear in retrospect. I have so many regrets. One of which is coming to you last month. I shouldn't have done it. I wanted another chance, but the truth is I didn't—don't—deserve it."

I immediately looked down at my hands. I could feel Edward's eyes burning a hole through me, and I didn't want to connect with them. Almost magnetically, though, I was drawn to his heartrending gaze.

He leaned back into the couch, and sat there with slack shoulders and a pensive face. A sheen of moisture glossed each eye, and his lips turned down at the corners.

"Bella, the way you talk, it's like you're taking all the blame. Our problems…it wasn't all you."

"I get that. I do, but I did play a part in it."

"We _both_ did. I didn't exactly do a stellar job of making you feel secure and loved. I'm pretty sure that if the person I loved kept choosing to live away from me, I might question their devotion too. And the whole med school admissions debacle. You can't know how much I regret that."

He raked his hair again and leaned forward on the couch, resting his forearms on his knees. "I will _never _use my daddy issues as an excuse or crutch, but I see now how many decisions I made based completely out of fear. So many of my choices were based on the crap that is my relationship with my dad. It wasn't fair to you…me bringing all that…that _poison_ into our relationship."

"We both brought our share of poison, Edward. But it's all just water under the bridge now anyway."

"Maybe it is." He shrugged, and then collapsed back against the couch once more. Resting his head on the cushion, he fixed his gaze on the ceiling, using both hands to tug on his hair. I watched his chest rise and fall concertedly, slowly. Several seconds later, he raised his head back up and found my eyes.

"I really appreciate your honesty, Bella. I appreciate your apologies, though they weren't necessary."

I opened my mouth to speak only to receive a taste of my own medicine.

"It's my turn to talk now, Bella," he inserted quickly, offering me a signature lopsided grin. It didn't reach his eyes though.

"I guess it is," I acquiesced.

"It's just that I'm sitting here sort of hoping you don't really think what you did last month was out of line," he paused, and his eyes darted up and to the right, "or _reckless. _Because if you do, you will likely consider what I'm here to say 'off the charts' reckless_."_

Then his green eyes locked onto mine relentlessly, intense and beautiful. My heart immediately sped up.

"Bella, after I lied to you about medical school, I promised myself I would never lie to you again. But I'm afraid I've done just that. I've lived with it for a month now, and I can't do it any longer." Edward's throat bobbed in a solid swallow, and his jaw muscles moved underneath his skin.

"What I'm trying to say is that I lied to you that day in Dallas, and I'm here to make it right. I know that in coming here I am risking upsetting the…the balance of things for you, but I had to come. I am here to tell you the truth and what you do with it is up to you."

"Alright," I replied shakily, even though I was trying my damndest to sound calm and collected.

"That day, you asked me if I still loved you, and I told you no." Edward winced as he spoke. "I looked right at you, Bella, and told you I didn't love you."

"But you didn't look me in the eyes," I whispered almost inaudibly, remembering that moment with vivid clarity.

"What?"

"I said you didn't look me in the eyes."

"No, I didn't." He conceded through a wistful half smile. "But even so, I lied to your face that day, and I'll tell you why. I _truly_ believed and I still believe that Mike Newton is the better man. I believed he was better for you and I thought that my lie would free you up for the future you deserved with him."

I couldn't help but shake my head, disappointed and, honestly, just annoyed, with that rationale.

"Let's just say I've been set straight about that since then," he commented, through a cynical grin.

"Set straight?"

"Rose."

"Ah."

"She heard how things went down, because Emmett can't keep a secret to save his life. She moves quick…she called me the very night you came over. Told me under no uncertain terms that I was a chicken shit, and that it was not my job to make decisions for you, Bella. That my part was to be completely honest with you and let you decide what's best for you."

I couldn't suppress the smile that played on my lips as I pictured beautiful and brazen Rose Cullen schooling Edward.

"I was thoroughly ticked at her, but I've been thinking about what she said ever since, and Bella," he paused, leveling me with his eyes, "she was absolutely right. She was right and now I'm here to tell you the truth, even though I know it could make things difficult…complicated…between you and Mike."

"Wait." I pushed myself upright in my chair and leaned in toward Edward. "You…you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"How in the world, between Rose and your mother, can you_ not_ know?"

"Not know _what_?" he demanded impatiently.

"That Mike and I are no longer together."

His eyes immediately tracked to my left ring finger. He opened his mouth to speak. Failing to formulate words, he simply shook his head and blinked several times as if dazed and confused.

"You really didn't know."

"I had _no_ idea, Bella. Rose refuses to talk to me and my mom, well…as I said, she and I are very selective about what we discuss."

"Even so, you really thought I would have such uncertainty toward Mike…such strong feelings for you, and actually go through with the wedding?" I questioned him incredulously.

"I…I hoped so," he admitted, as one shoulder rose in a shrug.

"Nice," I sniffed.

"I mean, I hoped so, because I really wanted what was best for you, Bells. I've always wanted that."

"So you've said." I rolled my eyes, tired of that well used mantra.

"At the time I _really_ thought I was doing the right thing."

"I'm sure you did," I exclaimed, feeling a familiar annoyance growing.

I forced myself to take several deep breaths in an effort to calm my body and soul. In a less turbulent tone, I added, "Either way, its irrelevant now, Edward."

"Is it?" He breathed out, with his jaw and eyes tight.

"For me it is."

"What if its not irrelevant for me, Bella?"

"And how exactly would Tanya feel about that?"

"This…us…is none of her business."

"God, Edward, how could it not be?"

"She isn't my girlfriend, Bella. Hasn't been for some time. In fact, I wasn't even with her when you came to Dallas."

"That might have been nice to know," I commented decidedly, through a frown.

"You never asked me about her that day. Not once."

"You'd think you would have thought to mention it anyway."

"You're probably right. I should have, but you can't know how surprised I was to see you at my front door. You had me reeling, Bella…with your shiny hair, that smile, those eyes, the way you smelled. Let's just say I wasn't thinking that clearly."

His words took me off guard. I found myself thrilled, and perhaps even redeemed, by the idea that Edward had been as affected by my presence as I had been by his. Getting wound up that he hadn't told me about Tanya just didn't seem important.

"Me either," I admitted softly, allowing my eyes to connect to his for the briefest of moments.

"We have hurt one another over the years, Bella," he started in, his voice supported by fresh vigor. "We've both done things we've regretted. But despite our downfalls, our missteps, and no matter what I said to you a month ago, I don't think we are bad for each other. I _don't_ think we end in hurt everytime."

"Edward—"

"_Please…_let me finish?"

I nodded my head for him to go on.

"My friends in med school that are married…most of them met their wife at the age of 22, maybe dated for a year or so and then tied the knot. They're still getting to know each other. Still figuring things out. Bella, you and I have known each other for over 25 years. We have navigated things together that most couples don't face until well into their adulthood. And while we have, at times, royally screwed things up, there's one thing we got right. We got the most important thing of all right _every time_."

I narrowed my eyes in puzzlement, and shook my head.

Locking his gaze on mine, he explained himself in that velvet tone my ears lived to hear. "We _always _loved one another. We _never _stopped loving each other. Even now, we still love each other." He looked down for a beat, rubbing the back of his neck briskly with his hand. Then he tilted his head back up, and gazed at me through a fringe of dark lashes. "At least I still love you. Which is what I came to tell you today."

My heart ran a race in my chest and I had to remember to breath—in and out, in and out. A single tear popped into the corner of each eye, and my throat became thick.

"You love me," I sighed out.

"Of course I do. As if there was ever a doubt."

"There was a doubt, Edward," I assured him keenly.

"I'm so sorry I misled you like that. There is no way I could ever not love you. It's in me, Bella." He gripped his shirt, right over his heart. "_You're_ in me. And I believe that if we love each other the way I know we do, it's enough. Love is enough."

"Is it?" I asked him somberly, as my hands, which where perched on the arms of the chair, trembled.

"It is, Bella. Can't you see it? You came to me a month ago because love is enough. You broke off a wedding because it's enough. I sent Tanya packing because it was enough. I came here willing to fight for you, and steal you from a completely decent guy, because it's enough. And this. _This_ proves that love is enough."

My head popped up at his words, and I eyed the piece of paper he held. He put it in my quaking hands. I couldn't help but notice his hands, too, were far from steady.

It was an official application for the University Health Science Center residency program, completely filled out with Edward's name at the very top.

In my sudden surprise, I dropped the paper, and watched it float to the ground.

"Wh…what is this?" I asked him, as I scooped up the document from below me.

"It's a photocopy of an application I mailed in 2 months ago. I picked UHSC as my first choice for a residency. If I get successfully matched, I'll be moving here as soon as I wrap up med school."

"You what?" I whispered, bewildered. "You sent this in 2 months ago?"

"I did. I was under some crazy notion that I could come here and sweep you off your feet, and make you forget all about him. I guess you could say when I came up with my grand scheme, I wasn't aware how serious you were with Mike."

"I-I don't understand. Why didn't you show me this when I came to you a month ago? Why…_why_ did you push me into someone else's arms?"

"I've asked myself the same question so many times. I came this close," he held his forefinger and his thumb a fraction of an inch apart, "to telling you that day. But I saw you and those big brown eyes. I saw your vulnerability. I saw what was at stake and what you'd be giving up to be with me. When it came down to it, I couldn't let you do it."

"I was _willing _to give it up for you, Edward. If I'd gained you I wouldn't have been giving up anything."

"I wasn't so sure."

"Well I was. I wanted to come there and sweep _you_ off your feet. I wanted you to look me in the eyes, and whether it made sense or not, tell me you loved me and that we'd never be apart again. That's what I wanted and when it ended so…so differently I was crushed."

"It crushed me too, Bella. It broke me. I really thought that if I loved you I needed to let you go. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I've spent the last month barely keeping it together. Thinking about you all the time and knowing I'd pushed you away for good. Wondering if you were happy like I wanted you to be.

"But I just couldn't do it anymore. I tried to be the better man, but I _couldn't _do it. So I threw my crap in my truck, and drove here, and…and took the biggest gamble of my life."

Edward rose from the couch and came over to the chair where I sat. He kneeled in front of me and claimed my hand with a kiss to my knuckles.

"Bella, I need you to tell me my gamble was worth it. Tell me, please."

"You...you don't think it's too late for us?" I whispered, knowing exactly what I desperately wanted and needed his answer to be.

"I don't think it's too late, Bells. Yes, we have regrets. We wish we hadn't gone though half the crap we put each other through. We took the long way…heck, the very longest way. But you have to admit that in light of everything we endured—including some hard, devastating losses—at the end of the day we still loved each other. To me, that says it all."

"You really believe that don't you?"

"With all that I am, I believe it. Based on our track record we may not make sense. There is a lot of water under the bridge. We are certain to hit problems and roadblocks along the way. But when its all said and done, I fully believe love is enough."

"I so want to believe that too, Edward. I want you back in my life. When I look at you, I see a dishelved 7-year-old boy, who chooses to play Barbies with me, secretly, of course, simply because he knows it will make me smile. I see a 12 year old, who has no idea the hold he has on my heart, but who treats me with kid gloves most of the time, purely out of instinct. And I see the 17 year old you, beautiful as they come, comforting me when my Prom date had to bail, giving me the best night of my young life.

"I look at you now and I see all of that. I see the story of us and it's so precious and real and alive.

"Since I left you in Dallas, I've been forced to think of a future without you in it. And when I do, it's nothing but a blank page. There's just…just emptiness, loneliness…just nothing. I don't want that blank page. I want our story back. I want…I _need_ for love to be enough, but I'm scared to hope."

This was my plea to Edward. With everything in me I wanted to jump off the proverbial cliff, but I was still fearful. Right or wrong, I needed him to walk me to the edge and take the plunge off of it, hand in hand, with me.

"I figured it might take some convincing for my beautiful, perfect, and very practical, Bella," he whispered; holding my gaze captive with his glistening eyes. "Which is exactly why I brought this final piece of evidence to prove to you that love is enough. This is my ace in the hole, Bella. Don't let me down."

He grinned another heart stopping crooked smile, but underneath I could see his body shaking. His throat bobbed in a deep swallow and he licked his lips nervously. The black ring box emerged from his pocket, held in the palm of a very unsteady hand.

"Bella Swan, "he began in a hushed voice, "I do believe love is enough. I love you. You love me and no matter what comes our way, that loves remains, unshakeable and irrevocable. You are my past, every single bit of it, and I want you to be my future too. I want you, until my last dying breath, I want you. I believe we are meant for each other. i believe I can make it through anything if I know you're mine. I _choose_ you, Bella Marie Swan. Please choose me?"

He opened the box to reveal his grandmother's white gold vintage solitaire. His words, the ring, took my breath away. I closed my eyes, seeking steadiness of some kind. Equilibrium only came when I felt his lips on mine, tender and warm.

He moved his mouth to the hollow of my neck, a spot he'd always loved. A spot that I'd loved even more. He feathered a string of kisses all the way to my neckline. My thoughts became deliciously fuzzy, but even through my haze I recognized the gravity of his touch…how it was right, and it held me in place; held me together. It had been so long since I'd felt him in that way, with that intention, and I realized, in a rush of emotion, how desperately I'd missed my other half.

"Choose me," he murmured against my mouth. "Choose me."

My answer, one that had been hidden within me for years simply waiting for provocation, welled up in my heart and easily found its way to my lips. "I choose you, Edward Masen, I do."

His gaze snapped to mine. I will never forget his pure elation and relief, dancing wildly in vivid green. He removed the ring from the box and slipped it on my hand, visibly exhaling once it sat securely on my finger. It fit me perfectly, as I'd had a hunch it would. The ring was me, completely, utterly me.

"I _love_ it, Edward," I whispered, meaning it heart and soul.

He tucked several strands of hair behind my ear, leaving his hand on my neck. I leaned into his touch, warm and gentle. His smile was sincere, so full, so wide, so youthful. Those eyes, my true north, shone bright and lovely, just as they always did when I pictured my Edward. I looked deeply into them with awe and wonder, realizing I had truly believed he'd never behold me like that again. I relished that moment, knowing beyond doubt, that those eyes would be my treasure, my beacon, for the rest of my life.

He fixed his gaze on the beautiful piece of jewelry that adorned my hand as though it was made for me. "I've waited a lifetime to give you this ring, Bells. I think it's finally found it's rightful home."

"I'd say this ring and I," I paused for just a beat to wipe away a tear or three, from my face and his, "have a lot in common."

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**One more chapter and an epilogue to go!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Twilight belongs to Ms. Meyer**

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**So you may not recognize this chapter due to the lack of angst. It's about time, right? Please check out my profile, so you can hear the two songs for this chapter...they really say it all. I want to thank you for reading...I have many more readers than I ever dreamed of. You write to tell the story, and to know someone is along for the ride...icing on the cake. A big thanks to my beta klarsen18...you are special, special to me. And thanks to those of you who drop me reviews. I covet each and every one. Treasurecoast...your thought out, thorough reviews humble me!**

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**Without further ado, chapter 28 takes place in 2001**

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**Chapter 28-For Old Time's Sake**

"I'm melted butter, Rose. Just melted butter."

"How much did you drink, Bella?" she inquired instantly.

"A margarita with dinner and two glasses of wine with Alice just now."

Even over the phone I could tell she was suppressing laughter. "That's a lot for you. How are you even keeping your eyes open?"

"I barely am. Like I said, melted butter."

"Wish I was there to be melted butter with you," she commented, with an edge of strain tempering her words.

"Rose, for the last time, you can't help that your flight got cancelled. And you _will_ be here tomorrow for the main event in all your periwinkle blue glory. That's what matters anyway."

"That I will. But you should see Em. He's moping around like a two year old. Says the 'man is bringing him down.' Let's just say he had very big plans for Edward that were supposed to place tonight."

"I have no doubt."

"On the bright side, at least you know Edward won't show up tomorrow in some state of disrepair."

"You speak from experience?"

"Emmet still has a mysterious bite mark scar on his ass from his party. He reeked of alcohol too and had bright red blood shot eyes at the alter, which were immortalized forever in the thousand pictures taken."

I grinned like a Cheshire cat picturing lovable Emmett with a bite on his hindquarters. I grinned even wider at thoughts of how Rose likely made him pay.

"So tomorrow…are you ready, Bells?"

"I am. I am nervous as all get out, but that's just because I hate the idea of all eyes on me."

"Well, Alice and I will do our best to outshine you," she shot back sarcastically.

"Shouldn't be hard."

"Aw, Bella, you've never known your own beauty. Probably why I like you so much. But I can say with absolute authority, you will be a knockout…the most beautiful girl in the room. Poor Edward won't know what hit him."

"I hope so," I sighed out, picturing him standing there waiting for me. Perfect, handsome, and best of all, mine.

"I'll just warn you. Your day will be a blur and you won't know what end is up. Do yourself a favor and just breath in and out. Take it slow and take it all in."

"I'll do my best, Rose."

"I'm feeling horrible that you are alone right now. Shouldn't we be celebrating, giggling, putting on facial masks?" The strain colored her tone once more.

"Alice _just _left. I am happy as a clam. Besides, we thoroughly celebrated last month during our spa trip to Sedona."

"I know. I just…I should be there. Period." Then she began mumbling under her breath something about _slight delay,_ _engine troubles, _and _incompetent airline_. I'm pretty sure I heard several colorful expletives employed to punctuate her sentiment.

"And you _will_ be here for the part where I need you most."

"You're so good to me, Bells."

"Listen, if anyone understands your frustration it's me. If you recall, I missed your wedding—all of it."

"Well, that couldn't be helped," she argued tenderly.

"You couldn't help it either, Rose."

"I suppose you're right. I just need to let it go and get it out of my system. What I wouldn't give to go to kick boxing class right now."

"Just don't use poor Em as your punching bag, kay?"

"Not a bad idea," she mused. "I could talk to you forever, my friend, but it's late. You need to be rested for your big day and I have an early flight to catch."

"Hopefully one that will actually take off?"

"They have no idea the hell there will be to pay if it doesn't," Rose snapped.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"As if that's possible."

"I'll see you at the salon tomorrow?"

"I'm thinking up-dos for all of us?"

"I'm thinking whatever you, Alice and Esme tell me to do."

"I love you, Bells," she replied through a giggle.

"I love you too, friend."

I hung up the phone and grabbed the wine bottle from my side table. I topped my glass off with a touch more Cabernet and sank back into my couch with an audible sigh of contentment. I'd connected with my two best friends and spent the evening with almost everyone that mattered to me. I couldn't have asked for more.

My mind was on a four second delay of sorts, so when I heard knocking at my front door it took me longer than it should have to realize what I was hearing. I stood up ever so gingerly from my couch upon comprehending the noise, briefly glancing at the clock on the wall, which read 11:55pm. I only momentarily wondered who might be at my house at that hour, but the concern came and left like a whim. Prudence was out the window in my melted butter world.

I made my way to answer the door on jello legs. Through the living room, past the kitchen and into the foyer.

"Who's there?" I called out, while leaning on the front door, needing it's support more than I was willing to admit.

"It's me, Bells."

"Edward?"

"Yes. Edward." I didn't have to see him to know he was amused. I could hear his smile.

"Just a sec."

I fiddled with the three locks on my door. My hands wouldn't listen to my brain and under the influence of wine, I was about as dexterous as someone with mittens on. When I finally managed to unlock each lock, I opened the door just enough to peek my head through.

"I thought we talked about this. Not so sure it's _appropriate_ for you to be here."

"Says who?" he challenged me through a broad, slightly crooked smile that would be the certain death of me. He still wore his slacks from earlier in the evening, but his button down was untucked, the sleeves bunched up to his elbows.

"Says me and everyone else." I found myself bowing up a little.

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoroughly entertained. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to not come see you? I am staying like, what, ten seconds away, and you think I'm not gonna come over here?"

"Tradition is tradition."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Aw, come on, Bells."

"We talked about this already and decided _together_ to go full tilt on all customs and…and," I looked up at the ceiling, scrambling to access the word that was on the tip of my tongue. "And _rituals._ Do you really think you should be here?"

"I don't care about should, I _want_ to be here." Then his expression became tender. "I miss you."

"You just saw me three hours ago."

"Yeah, with fifty other people at a loud Tex-Mex restaurant. We barely got to talk."

With a slight pout playing on his lips, he locked his lovely green eyes on mine. After all the years of getting lost in those eyes, they still had full power over me. And because of that very power, suddenly appropriateness, ritual, custom and what we should or shouldn't do didn't matter so much. I opened the door all the way and motioned him in with my head.

"For the record, Edward, this was _not_ my idea."

"Consider it noted." His lips curved up at the corners.

He stepped across the threshold and leaned down to give me a hug. I attempted to return it, only to become quite unsteady on my feet.

"Whoa." I stood still and closed my eyes.

He grinned, placing his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I'm fine," I replied defensively. "Just lost my balance. You're just so far up there, is all."

I knew he was dying to make a rebuttal, but oh so wisely, he bit his tongue.

"Why did you knock anyway? You have a key," I questioned him, as he held my arm and escorted me to the living room where I fell onto the couch as soon as I was close enough to it. I wrapped my favorite chenille throw around my shoulders and scooted over to make room for him to sit next to me.

"You weren't expecting me tonight, right?"

"Right."

"It's almost midnight…I figured you'd have the door all Fort Knoxed out with the big daddy deadbolt locked. I _had _to knock."

"Am I that predictable?"

"_Consistent_. You're just consistent."

He plopped down next to me and hiked his legs up on the "new" coffee table he and I had found at a garage sale several weeks prior.

"So from the rosy cheeks, glassy eyes, and a walk that veers to the left, I'd say my Bella's had one and half glasses of wine tonight."

"You think you know me so well," I mumbled.

"Like I said, you're consistent," he shrugged.

"I'll have you know, Edward Masen, I had a margarita at dinner and _two_ glasses of wine tonight thank you."

"So your tolerance is growing?" he noted through a grin.

"I'm such a light weight it's pathetic."

"Always have been. Just part of your charm."

He settled into the couch, removing two decorative throw pillows that he always referred to as extraneous, so he could get comfortable.

"So, did I see Alice pulling away just awhile ago? I thought she was spending the night, so you could gossip and braid each others hair?"

I rolled my eyes and elbowed his ribs.

"She came home with me from the restaurant, and we were planning on having a sleepover, but the baby was having a rough night. She decided she should probably get to the hotel to help Jazz. So, we drank some wine and then I watched her pump and dump."

"Pump and dump?"

"It's what breastfeeding moms do after they imbibe. They use a breast pump to express their milk then they dump that batch so the baby won't get milk with alcohol in it."

"And you watched her do this?" he questioned me, his eyebrows raised to Heaven.

"Yes. If she'd gone back into the bedroom to do it we'd have less time to talk," I explained.

Edward shuddered.

"It's completely natural, Edward, and as a doctor, I'd hope you know that."

"Oh, I know that," he exclaimed adamantly. "I just have a mental picture of Alice now that I need to Chlorox out of my brain."

I hit him lightly on his shoulder, and turned my head to conceal my smile.

"So when did Al and Jasper get the minivan anyway?"

"A few months ago. Once the baby came, her Camry couldn't very well fit two boosters and one car seat. It was a decision of practicality. Jazz calls it the Man Van."

Edward's lips twitched into a smile. "I like that."

"He says the name takes the sting out of actually having a minivan...something he swore he'd never own."

"Good 'ol Jasper. Wonder if we'll ever have a Man Van, Bella?"

"I hope so," I answered him softly, as thoughts of our future gave me butterflies of the best kind.

He grabbed my hand tightly, placing a kiss on my fingers. "Me too."

I took his hand and moved it so that his arm was around me, then I nuzzled in, where I fit exactly.

"Had you told me that Alice would get married before me, have babies before me, and drive a freaking minivan before me I would've never believed you," I thought aloud.

"I know. I never pegged her for the type."

"But turns out she's so suited for it. She has a garden, makes her own clothes, watches Oprah, and has an impeccable home. I've recently decided she's actually a superhero that goes by the name Domestica."

"You're a bit of a domestica yourself, you know?" he argued, pressing a kiss into the top of my head.

"Nothing like Al."

"That girl is living proof that things rarely turn out like you think they will."

"I guess for us, that's a good thing," I added thoughtfully, thinking of how very close we'd both come to marrying other people, and living completely different lives.

He exhaled loudly and rolled his neck, producing several audible cracking noises.

"Geesh, Edward. You need a massage or something."

"You offering?" A mischievous look painted his chiseled features.

I studied him for just a second, for the first time noticing a laziness to his eyes and jaw. I wasn't the only who'd partaken of adult beverages after dinner, that much was evident, though I _was _the only one with the tolerance of a field mouse.

"Not tonight, my love. I can't keep my eyes open much less stay focused on a massage."

He moved his hand to the back of my neck and began to lightly knead it. Then he leaned in and kissed me there. "Who said you have to stay focused?"

He was still teasing me, but his eyes held the beginning of a smolder. A delectable green smolder. Little did he know, that had that smolder simmered into something more, I would have gladly stoked the flame, tradition be damned. Drowsiness wasn't the only affect wine had on me.

"Actually," I cleared my throat, as my words—on a loose autopilot—ran out of my mouth. "I was thinking you should try my therapist that does the deep tissue massage that hurts so good. She's my own personal Mr. Miagi, like when he fixed Danielson in the final match against Johnny."

And with that, the potential smolder was gone, but the companionable affection was not. Edward pulled me to him and kissed the tip of my nose.

"You know I don't have time to squeeze something like that in, Little Bit. And by the way, only _you_ would reference _Karate Kid_ in the year 2001."

"A good reference is a good reference, period. As for the massage, just keep it on your radar. You sound like a bowl of rice krispies and that can't be good."

"I'm fine. I'm just stiff from taking call so many nights in a row."

"I hate that you had to do that."

"It was well worth it." He rolled his shoulders this time. Again lots of cracking. "Anything to get time off."

"Thanks for working so hard, Dr. Masen. When we are in Mexico lounging on the beach, it will have all been worth it."

"Correction. When I see my girl waiting for me tomorrow, it will have all been worth it."

"Aw."

I felt a burn behind my eyes and in my nose. Sure enough, the tears came next.

He used a gentle touch to wipe my wet cheeks. "Don't cry."

"They're happy tears, Edward. Because of you, the majority of my tears are happy ones now."

He leaned in and placed kisses on either side of my face, following the tracks of my tears. "I love you, Bella."

"I love you too," I whispered through a scratchy voice.

Seeking to soothe my throat, I grabbed my wine glass off the side table and took a long draw off of it.

"Slow down there, Little Bit. I'd prefer it if you didn't fall asleep on me just yet," Edward jibed, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"You have to try this wine, Edward." I put the glass right up to his lips, giving him no choice but to taste it.

"Nice. Very smooth." Edward commented, after drawing it in.

"Al brought a couple of bottles of it to me tonight. She bought them five years ago when she and I took that Napa Valley and Sonoma wine tour trip. She kept them all this time waiting for the perfect occasion to crack them open. They're from my all time favorite winery."

"And what makes it your favorite?" He paused for effect. "Let me guess. The winery was housed in a some quaint little cottage with walls full of stories."

"While that would normally be a very good reason where I am concerned, I actually loved the winery for its name." I found his eyes. "Wilson Winery."

His lips turned up at the corners and much to my surprise the light of recognition shown in his eyes. "The name of your, I guess _our_, future son."

I sat upright and turned to face him. With my hands placed firmly on his shoulders, I squealed, "You were listening!"

"I have always listened to you, even when I was a teenage boy and had no idea where you were coming from," he replied through a chuckle. "Wilson was your mom's maiden name. You decided when we were 13 you would use it for your son. Our Science teacher, who you idol worshipped, named her son Porter, because it was her maiden name. You thought that was the coolest idea ever, but since you couldn't very well name a boy Swan, you moved on to your mom's name. I remember it like it was yesterday. Stifling hot summer day. We were underneath Our Tree, and you wouldn't shut up about it."

"I must say you have shocked me tonight, Edward Anthony."

"I'm always good for a surprise or two. But I have to say, Wilson doesn't ring so nicely with Masen. Wilson Masen." He scrunched up his nose. "Not so much."

"Hmm. You're kind of right."

Edward, ever the positive thinker, added brightly with a shrug, "So we use it as a middle name? Or better yet, we could call him Wil. To your credit, Bells, when you picked it out you had no idea what your last name would end up being."

I lifted my mouth to his, and murmured against his lips, "Oh, yes I did."

I felt him smile under my mouth, then he deepened the kiss in such a way I felt it all the way to my toes.

"So," he pulled away just a hare, "what would you say about taking that bottle of Wilson Wineries Cabernet and that blanket there, and sitting under Our Tree for old time's sake?"

"It's past midnight."

"So?"

"In case you forgot, tomorrow's kind of a big day."

"Biggest day of my life," he agreed, through a big lopsided grin.

"I'm not dressed," I protested once more, glancing down at my tank and lounge pants.

"Not a problem in my book," he smirked.

"Plus, you know that if we go out there together, the fact that we _are_ together right now will for sure be public knowledge. Esme will have your head if she finds out you are here…that you've seen the bride on the day of."

"My mom is already in bed."

"But the eyes and ears of 67th Street never sleep." I nodded my head in the direction of Becky Phillips house-the woman who stood at her kitchen sink window and knew every move that anyone on our block made, in a creepily omniscient kind of way. Once she came across any type of information, she could disseminate it better than the Internet.

"You do remember the time she told your mom and my dad that you and I were involved in some 'heavy petting' in the El Cam?"

"I do recall that. That was a _good _night, wasn't it?"

"I'm just saying that you never know who might see us."

"Bells, we are adults. I could care less who sees us."

"Okay, but you're taking the brunt of your mom's outrage once she gets wind of this. She's a sucker for traditions. If she knows we are together right now she will have a cow."

"I think I can handle it." He shook his head, no doubt amused by Bella, the chronic rule follower. "We owe it to ourselves to sit under Our Tree one last time."

"What do you mean _one last time_. It sounds so morose and final?"

"Well, it will be your last time as Bella Marie Swan anyway. It's the end of an era. From here on out everything will be different."

"Well…when you put it like that..." I gave in rather quickly. Perhaps it was the wine or maybe it was the nostalgia. Most likely, it was a delicious mix of the two, but either way, I was putty in his hand. "You win, Mr. Masen. Grab yourself a wine glass from the kitchen? I'll meet you in there."

"As you wish," he replied in his best Wesley from _The Princess Bride_ British accent. He winked at me as he headed into the kitchen. I made my way, still noodle-legged as it were, to the bedroom and grabbed a package from under my bed.

Several minutes later, Edward and I were hunkered down, just like hundreds of times before, beneath our faithful friend. The night breeze tickled the leaves above us, creating an almost magical wind chime effect. Edward sat against the trunk and I leaned back against his chest. If I turned my head just so, and listened hard, I could hear my favorite sound in the world—his heart.

"So, our rehearsal dinner…was it everything you hoped it would be?"

"Oh, Edward, I loved it. Your mother did such a great job with it. It was fun but completely intimate. Everything I could have wanted."

"It was great. Just wish Em and Rose could have made it."

"I know, I actually just got off the phone with her. Your best friend is thoroughly bummed that he isn't here tonight. Apparently he had a full scale bachelor night planned for you."

"I can only imagine," Edward sniffed.

"Are you sad you didn't have that kind of bachelor party? You know, girl in a cake kind of thing?"

"The only girl I want in any cake is sitting right next to me."

"You're laying it on thick, Mr. Masen."

"Carlsile and I went to a pub tonight, shared a couple of beers and smoked a fine cigar. It was perfect. I mean I get the whole 'one last night as a single guy' deal. But I'm over that. All I've wanted since I can remember is to give you my last name and make you mine forever. I'm getting to do that. Nothing else matters."

"You really _are_ laying it on thick," I whispered, snuggling deeper into his fold, relishing his words.

He tilted his head up and gazed into the leaves above us. "Ever wonder how many times we've sat exactly here and done exactly this?"

"We've never done _exactly_ this." I nodded over to our wine glasses, precariously balanced on the package I'd brought with me.

"You know what I mean, Bella." He dug his finger into my rib and tickled me, which resulted in giggling and squirming.

"I suppose we never thought to keep count, because we could've never known how important this place would be in the grand scheme of us."

"Guess not."

We sat in peaceful quiet for several minutes, with nothing but the tinkling of the leaves surrounding us. I melted into Edward's chest, savoring the steady rise and fall of it against my back. He mindlessly twirled a lock of my hair between his fingers. With the other hand, he lightly caressed my arm, from my shoulder down to my elbow and back up again.

The rumble of his baritone broke the silence. "What did you think of mom's toast tonight?"

"I went through a mini package of Kleenex during her toast alone."

"I noticed that."

"It was beautiful and I loved hearing about my mom. Esme tells me about her here and there and I eat it up…every little detail."

"Must have been _interesting_ for our moms…to watch us," then he paused for a beat, "to watch us…how did mom phrase it?"

"She said we danced around each other."

"Right. It must have been interesting for them to watch us dance around each other all those years."

"More like maddening."

I felt Edward laugh underneath me.

"She said they knew early on there was a special connection between us," I recalled Esme's toast. "That they hoped, even as young as we were when my mom was still alive, that we'd end up together when it was all said and done."

I sat up and turned to find Edward's gaze. "Edward, there's something so special to me, knowing that my mom wanted me to be with you. Charlie always approved of you. I never doubted that. But now I know I've pleased my mom, at least in this one all important way."

It was dark outside, but we had the light of the moon, the porch lights from both our homes, and the nearby street lamps. I could see his emerald eyes fill with tears. "She would be pleased with more than just this decision, Bella. You know that, right?"

"Yes and no. I'm pretty sure she'd be happy with how I've turned out, but I have no certainty of it."

He grabbed my hands with his, and fixed earnest eyes on mine. "I'm _certain_ of it. I only knew her for fourteen years, but I have no doubt in my mind that she would be so proud of you. You're a fighter, Bella, and against the odds, you turned out more than okay. _Everything_ about your life would please her."

"Not everything, Edward."

"_Everything_." He tipped his head just a touch, so his eyes were even with mine.

"I miss her so much, Edward," I whispered through a thick, tight throat. "And even with all the strain we had between us, I miss Charlie too. They…they should be here for this. It just seems like something a parent should get to be a part of."

He wore a pained face. Plaintively, he murmured, "And something that a daughter should have her mother and father around for. It isn't fair, sweet Bella, and I hate it. I absolutely hate it."

With that, he put a hand on the back of my head, and drew me toward him. As I rested into his chest, silent tears pooled in my eyes and spilled over. He held me, rocked me, and perfectly comforted me through the bittersweet moment.

"I'll have you know Carlisle is a mess. I've never seen him so emotionally frazzled…he's almost like a chick. I think walking you down the aisle is the highlight of his life so far," Edward mused, in a whisper, into my ear.

"It was either him or Jasper. As much as I adore Jazz, it was a no brainer. It _had_ to be Carlisle."

"You know I couldn't agree more. And you've made his life. I swear he's more excited about it than he is about marrying my mom."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Well, it's a close second anyway."

"Did you ever dream Carlisle would be your step dad, Edward?"

"Not in a million years. We all know he was like my unofficial dad, but I never considered anything more."

"That's because you are dense, Edward Masen," I chided him through a grin. "How you didn't think of setting the two of them up them sooner, I'll never understand. They were made for each other."

"I know, I know. I get plenty of grief about it from Carlsile and mom, okay? Your input isn't needed." He grabbed me by the waist and nuzzled into my neck, nipping it playfully.

"Careful there, you don't want to leave a mark," I warned him, as I bent my head to the side with the express purpose of giving him better access to my décolletage.

"You're just so delicious," he murmured against my skin, gently grazing me with his teeth.

His arms encircled me tightly and he laid his head against my shoulder. My hand found its way to his hair-thick, beautiful and unruly as ever. I ran my fingers through its silky strands, because that's what my fingers simply had to do when that head of hair was in proximity.

"So, your dad comes in the morning. How ya feeling about that?"

I felt his body immediately tense up.

"Should we talk about this later?" I sighed out apologetically.

"No, we can talk about it. I thought long and hard about inviting him. I don't regret it. It will just forever be my knee jerk reaction to stress out at the mention of his name. Inviting him was the right thing."

"You didn't have to do the right thing, you know?"

"It was the right thing for _me." _Edward's body relaxed once again against mine. "Him coming to the wedding…it's my way of owning the situation and not letting him win. I took the high road. I wasn't reactive to his crap. _I _made the decision. _ We_ made it, Bella."

I offered him silent comfort through the strokes of my fingers through his hair.

"I refuse to let him, or anything he's done or will do, sway me…affect me…like it used to. This is _our_ life, Bella. _We _call the shots."

"That we do," I agreed in a whisper, as tears—of pride—pricked the corners of my eyes.

Edward's sports watch chimed loudly. He was unfazed by it, but it made me jump, just as it did anytime I heard it signal the top of the hour.

"You'll never get used to it, will you?" Edward commented, amused.

"Not likely. One o'clock already?"

"So says the watch."

"If I am 'bags-under-her-eyes-bride' I will hold you responsible."

He pulled his head off of my shoulder, sitting up to look at me. He touched his fingertips under my eyes, where dark circles would no doubt have set up shop come morning.

"You'll be nothing but 'beautiful bride' and I can't wait to see you in your mom's dress. Can't wait make you mine."

"Too late. That's already a done deal."

He took my hand and placed it over his heart. "I can't argue that, I suppose."

"So I brought something out here for you. A wedding gift of sorts."

"But I don't have your gift with me, Bells. I figured I was supposed to give it to you tomorrow," he paused, "or later today, as the case may be."

"Just consider this an early present."

I reached over and placed our now empty wine glasses on the grass. I grabbed the package and handed it to Edward.

He sat up and put it in his lap. Tearing into the paper with careless abandon, just as he had our whole lives, he got down to the box in no time flat. He opened it up and pulled out the picture frame that sat within.

Silent and still, he gazed down at the photo in the frame for several seconds.

"I love this picture, Edward. It's probably my favorite. It's special…_important_."

"Taken on a Polaroid, no less. Were we, what, like eight or nine?"

"Eight."

"Did I wear that shirt everyday or what?"

"Just about." I smiled, remembering his strange attachment to that cheapy Z-Up t-shirt.

He cocked his head to the side and his mouth quirked into a smile, as he stared at the picture. His eyes were bright with the moisture of new tears. "It sort of sums us up, huh?"

"Exactly."

I looked down at it with him, remembering how that picture had haunted me and utterly compelled me to face the truth of my life. It was that very picture that set into motion, a series of events that changed the course of things for me, for us.

Edward ran his fingers over it, in much the same way I had the night I'd rediscovered it in a haystack of photographs. The night I was, ironically enough, preparing for a different wedding to a different man.

"I love it, Bella," he whispered, as he continued to gaze upon it. Then he looked up at me with the most tender of green. "And I love you."

I captured his eyes and held them fiercely. "Forever and a day?"

"Forever and a day."

I couldn't stifle the untimely yawn that came next. And since yawns are contagious, he couldn't stifle his, which followed and mirrored mine.

"I'm guessing it's time to get my girl some shut eye," he asked me, as he placed his hand on the back of my neck.

"The crew will be here in six hours to get this Sycamore wedding-ready. I'd hate for them to find us asleep here."

"We wouldn't be naked when they found us…or would we?" he asked impishly.

"Definitely not naked," I smirked.

"How exactly do they plan to make this the scene of our nuptials? And are we sure it isn't too cliché?"

"He asks me on the actual day of our wedding. We've talked about this, silly. It is _completely _cliché, but in the best possible way. And with Esme and Alice's vision, combined with Carlsile's checkbook, this wedding under a tree will be the most amazing thing anyone's ever seen."

"I believe you. But for the record, I'd marry you in a Denny's, Bella."

"If a Denny's sat between our houses, and if we'd grown up under one, I'd marry you there too." I pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood up, albeit slowly, from the ground.

He followed suit, taking a step toward me, closing any space between us. He craned his neck to look down at me. "Can I ask you a question, in all seriousness?"

"Of course you can."

"I know we agreed to the traditions and stuff. And I know part of that was me living with Esme until we were officially husband and wife. But I can't be away from you anymore, not even just to sleep. What do you say? How about we make my first official night in our home tonight?"

Edward's eyes tightened at the edges and he bit his lip as he awaited my verdict.

I could've blamed my lack of resolve on the margarita and subsequent glasses of wine. I could have, but alcohol and my low tolerance weren't to blame.

"I thought you'd never ask," I whispered, as I brushed his hair from his forehead.

He smiled crookedly and widely, and it was magnificent and heart stopping. It was my whole world.

He scooped me up into his arms, as if I was light as air, and carried me to my front stoop. With two wine glasses, a blanket, and picture of two toothless eight year olds in my hands, I was swooped over the threshold, in the arms of my beloved.

With a sheepish smile on his face, Edward explained, "Since we'll be in a hotel for our honeymoon night, I wanted to carry you like this tonight. Custom…ritual….you know."

"No arguments here," I smiled against his lips.

He ferried me into the living room, where I dropped off the blanket and wine glasses. Then, with me still in his fold, we proceeded into the bedroom where he walked me to his side of the bed. With care, I placed our picture on his side table. He adjusted his hold on me, freeing up one hand so he could tweak the frame's placement just so—no doubt expressly to goad me. He lifted his eyebrows, awaiting my next move. I raised my brow in return, and lacking any kind of counterstrike, simply stuck out my tongue like a three year old. His face morphed into that smile that I loved so, and we fell onto the bed—our bed-together in a tangled, giggling heap.

And just like that, Edward Anthony Masen, love of my life-past, present, and future-was no longer the boy next door.

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**_So there you have it...the final chapter. There be a short epilogue, just to tie things up neatly. _**

**_I am finally finding time to delve into reading FF once more. My two fav stories right now are Green by Bratty Vamp and A Garment of Brightness by miaokuancha. I'm certain they don't need pimpage, per say, but I wanted to suggest some good reads to you anyway!_**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Ms. Meyer**

authors note: Here is the epilogue I promised. I just wanted to give you a glimpse into the Masen's lives, ten years down the road.

**So very sorry it has taken so long to post. RL gts in the way sometimes. **

I want to thank you for reading this story. Writing a FF was a big risk and huge undertaking and I am SO glad I did it. To finish a story feels like a big accomplishment. With that said, now its time for a break :). Thank you for reviewing, for rec'ing this to friends. And as always, I love my beta, klarsen18...I feel like I got a friend out of the deal. And a special thanks to L.J. Summers for her wisdom and support!**

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**Epilogue-2010**

"So…how did it go?" Alice's soprano, hopeful and expectant, filled my ears through my cell phone.

"Negative," I breathed out, feeling more discouraged after saying it out loud.

"Oh sweetie. I'm so sorry. Does Edward know yet?"

"Nope. I just did the test—twice—and he hasn't come home from work yet."

"Bells…" her voice trailed off.

"It's okay, Al. Unfortunately I'm getting used to one line and not two."

"I know."

"I'm beginning to think that Ren was a miracle."

"She very well may have been," Alice agreed, sounding more somber than I'm sure she meant to.

I walked into my daughter's room, yellow and purple and covered with Hannah Montana and Jonas Brothers posters floor to ceiling. I placed her folded clothes on the end of her bed, then I sat down next to the stack. I breathed in and was met with her smell-Love's Baby Soft perfume—something she'd discovered at Walmart and insisted on making her signature scent. Even in my disappointment, and through the sting of hot tears, I couldn't help but smile.

"I hate this, Bella. It kills me to hear you so sad. To know you feel that way and I can't be there for you."

"But you _are_ here for me, Alice."

"You know what I mean."

"I do. But I'm okay. Unfortunately this kind of disappointment isn't a new thing. I am beginning to think that maybe having only one is the plan for us. I mean Edward and I were both only children and we turned out okay," I contemplated wistfully as I fingered Ren's comforter—lovingly handmade by GranEssie, otherwise known as Esme Cullen.

"Well that's negotiable…at least on Edward's end," Alice joked, no doubt attempting to lighten the mood.

"We have Ren and we are happy. Maybe we should stop trying and just be content with what we have?"

"You've been trying for three years. No one would blame you for deciding to stop."

"I just think it's time for Edward and I to sit down and decide, together, how much more we can take. Maybe we stop trying for a while? Maybe we look into adoption? I don't know, and I'm so stinking emotional lately I can't even begin to make a huge decision like that."

"I'm sorry, friend."

"I am too," I whispered, feeling the weight of of yet another negative pregnancy test square on my shoulders. "Wish my mom was around, Al. She went through this and somehow came to terms with just having me. I'd love to be able to talk to her."

"I know you would, Bells."

"But you're a good sounding board too."

Alice, even as a mother of five kids, grieved my infertility with me as if it was her own burden. I knew she felt almost guilty that she and Jasper could pretty much pass in the hallway and conceive, but it didn't stop her from caring for me as only a best friend could.

"And I always here for you."

"That I know."

From the other side of the house, I heard the front door open with a loud, familiar squeak. It clicked shut and Edward's voice, shouting my name, followed.

"I probably need to go for now. For some reason my husband is yelling for me, and quite loudly at that," I told Alice, as I rose from the bed.

"Aw, just ignore him," she laughed.

"With the way he's yelling, I have a feeling he'd come hunt me down."

"Call me later?"

"Absolutely."

"And, remember to look at Edward's schedule so we can plan a visit. Jasper is mopey…wants to show Edward his new humidor."

"Boys and their toys."

"And my boy has many."

"I love you, Alice."

"Love you back. And Bells?"

"Uh huh."

"Keep your chin up."

"I'll do my best."

With that, I pushed end, and took a deep breath in and out, and prepared to see my husband. I would tell him about the plastic stick that once again ruined my day, but that would come later. He'd just finished a twelve-hour shift, and the last thing he needed was to be immediately bombarded with bad news.

I made my way through the hall with a plastic laundry basket bouncing on my hip. After dropping off a pile of folded towels in the master bathroom, and depositing the basket in the laundry room, I headed to the kitchen where Edward was still yelling for me.

"Bella!" he called out once more with gusto, just as I walked in. He smiled sheepishly once he realized he'd practically yelled in my face.

"I'm right here, Edward. Where's the fire?"

"Sorry," he apologized through a grin.

"Have you seen your daughter lately?" he asked, as he drew me into a hug and pressed a kiss into the top of my head.

"She came in awhile ago. But since then…no I haven't seen her. What's wrong?"

"Oh, everything's okay." His lips twitched into a smile. "You just need to see this for yourself."

"See what?"

He grabbed my hand. "Just come on."

I trailed behind him, managing to check out his derrière, which looked heavenly in his blue-green hospital issue scrubs. His hair, as always was thoroughly tugged upon. His gait had the teeniest of hitches in it, the result of a knee injury sustained playing indoor soccer the prior year. The messy hair and the hitch in his walk were always fully activated by the end of a shift in the Emergency Department.

"You've worked hard today, my love," I commented, as we walked out the front door.

"And just how would you know this?"

"I have my ways," I answered him, attempting to sound mysterious.

He stopped in his tracks, and turned to face me. As he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes scanned my face. "You worked hard too."

"Just wrangling your impish daughter."

"Most important work there is," he murmured, as he gently kissed my lips. He pulled away and studied my eyes. "I detect a touch of sad in there. What gives, Bells?"

"Nothing that can't be talked about later," I assured him, returning his kiss with a brush of my lips across his mouth.

He drew me in tight, wrapping his arms around me. My hands found their way to the back of his neck, where my fingers loved to play with his hair. Much canoodling ensued, as it did most days when he came home from the hospital, especially when our very observant daughter wasn't in tow.

When we were finished giving each other a proper hello, Edward once again grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our destination, the side of our house where the Sycamore sat.

Before me was our eight-year-old daughter. I took in her bronze-brown curls, pulled into a ponytail that had become haphazard from a day of play. Her Jonas Brothers t-shirt was covered in what looked to be orange juice and something chocolate. She wore no shoes, as usual, and the bottoms of her feet were dirty brown.

She was a mess. A beautiful, perfect little mess. This was how I pictured my playful, adventuresome Ren, especially during the summertime, when days were long and 67th Street held wonder and potential.

Her brown eyes were focused intently on what she was doing. As it became clear to me exactly what she was up to, I understood why Edward wanted me to see it for myself.

She was enthralled in tying a little boy—one that I'd never seen before-to the Sycamore, using various ribbons that normally hung from a rack on her closet door. She had his wrists cinched and was attempting to bind him to the trunk of the tree.

"Renee Esme Masen! What in the _world _are you doing?"

She spun around at the sound of my voice, eyes wide like saucers. Yet after just a beat, the panic left her eyes and was replaced by resolve. Her delicate chin, which matched mine, jutted out a tad, and her jaw, a feminine version of her father's, was firm.

She spoke, precocious as always. "We're protesting, mother. This is a sit-in. As soon as I get Jay tied to the tree, I'm next."

I felt Edward-who stood next to me close enough that our shoulders touched-shake. I shifted my eyes to the side to catch a glimpse of my husband, who should have been my partner in discipline, unsuccessfully stifling laughter.

"And who exactly is Jay?" I asked calmly, while scrambling on the inside. _Who was Jay? Why was he being bound to the tree? Where had Ren "gotten" him?_

She had set about the work of tying this poor boy to the Sycamore once more. Her voice floated over her shoulder, as she couldn't be bothered to even look me as she spoke. "Jay is gonna be our next door neighbor, and my new best friend in the word. He's here with his mom. She's inside measuring rooms and stuff."

Jay, with his big blue eyes, simply shook his head in agreement as he moved this way and that to make the work of being tied up, that much easier. With blonde hair and skin that was brown as a berry, he looked to be about Ren's age, or at least close to it.

"Well, we are so glad to meet you, Jay," I started in carefully. "Are you sure Ren isn't hurting you? Are you _sure_ you want to be tied up like this."

He cast his gaze toward Ren, the adoration and awe, clearly visible. "I don't mind at all. She says this here tree is going to be _our_ tree and we can't let 'em cut it down because it's special."

This time Edward piped in, finally. "Ren, darling, what gave you the idea we are cutting it down?"

"Daddy, I heard you talking to that tree doctor yesterday. He said if the next treatment didn't work he might have to take the Sycamore down. I heard it with my own two ears."

"You jumped to conclusions, sweet pea." Edward kneeled down to Jay and Ren's level. "We will only cut this tree down if it's dying, and that's because if it rotted and became brittle and fell either way it would hit our house, or Jay's house. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Jay opened his mouth to speak, but Ren cut him off. "You can't cut it down! You and mommy fell in love under it. I know you got married here…I saw the pictures. And GranEssie says it's almost magical. You can't chop down something that's magical!" Then she added under her breath, serious as a heart attack, "That would be like murdering a unicorn."

Jay's eyes widened, as he listened to my little drama queen. He shook his head with her words and almost settled into his position of captivity with more purpose.

Edward turned his head to the side and started in on his shaking laughter thing, so I promptly and not lightly at all, nudged him with my foot.

"Ren, sweetheart, why don't you untie Jay," Edward offered, once he'd cleared the laughter out of his throat.

"No way, Daddy."

"No way," Jay echoed, flashing his bright blue gaze from Ren to Edward and back to Ren again, where his eyes remained fixed and focused.

"There's no need for a sit-in or a protest."

"You say that, Daddy, but I heard what the tree doctor said. I heard it!"

"I heard it too, but I promise you," Edward held up his most sincere Scout's honor hand, "that we will do our best to keep this tree alive. That if we end up having to take drastic measures, you—and Jay here—will be the first to know."

Ren's eyes narrowed as she considered Edward's offer. Her cherubic heart shaped face was pensive. She pursed those lips, and tilted that head before finally agreeing. "That's a deal I think I can live with. How about you, Jay?"

"I'm in." He smiled widely, Ren's trance over the boy plain as the nose on his face.

"Well then, since we've all come to a suitable agreement, let's get Jay untied," Edward concluded, as he began to loose knot after knot secured in silky and grosgrain ribbons alike.

"So, Jay, when will your and you family move in?" I asked him, as he patiently waited his release.

"It's just mom and me. We move in next week, I think."

"Well, we are so glad to have you. Ren has been praying for a kid to move in next door."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," I assured him. "After her grandmother moved out several years ago, an older couple moved in. They were very sweet people, but their grandkids only came once a year. Ren has been dying for a playmate."

"Me too," Jay commented, his eyes wide and sincere. "We've been in an apartment. Momma was nervous we wouldn't be able to afford a house. But then I heard her tell my aunt that she fleeced the S.O.B. in the settlement, and we get to have this nice house because of it."

Edward's eyes immediately met mine and we shared a look of silent amusement. Luckily Ren didn't ask what fleece or S.O.B. meant, and we were able to sail right past Jay's colorful quote.

"So your dad doesn't live with you?" Ren inquired, as she unwound a rainbow print ribbon from his arm.

"No. He lives across town, with Victoria and their new baby. Don't see them much, really."

"You don't get to see your _own_ dad very much?" Ren questioned him further, completely unaware of her own insensitivity.

"Nope." Little Jay wore a brave face, but I perceived the grief in his young eyes. Edward noticed it too. I could almost palpably feel and visibly see my husband's heart go out to the child. It took Edward no time at all to act on it.

"So Jay, wanna know something cool?"

"Sure, Mr. Masen."

"I grew up in this very house," Edward pointed to his old bedroom window, "and that was my bedroom window. I lived with my mom too. I am _so_ glad there is finally someone like you and someone like your mom to live in the house again, just like my mother and I did."

Jay was unbound at this point, and he sat up on his heels, leaning in toward Edward, as enraptured by Ren's father and he was by her.

"Really, Mr. Masen?"

"I wouldn't lie about something this important. And you know what else? "

"What?"

"There is a place really nearby where Ren and I like to go to get milkshakes. In fact, Mrs. Masen and I used to go there as kids to get them because they are the best in town."

Jay looked at me, and I nodded my head with enthusiastic affirmation.

Once he had Jay's attention again, Edward continued on. "And I think the only way to properly welcome you to our neighborhood is with a huge cookies and cream shake. So what do you say we go meet your mother and see if she if she can take a break and go with us?"

"But we haven't had dinner, Daddy."

"I know that, Ren."

"But you and Mom _never_ let me have sweets before dinner. _Never_." Ren spoke slowly and emphatically, not to mention suspiciously.

"Well, it's a special occasion…us meeting Jay and all," Edward explained. "Special occasions call for the bending of rules, I think. And like I said, we have to welcome Jay to 67th Street."

Ren pumped her arm and hissed "yes." Then both she and Jay jumped up, threw their arms around each other and screamed-their lofty protest under Our Tree quickly to be forgotten. They left a pile of ribbons at their feet and ran in the direction of what would soon be Jay's house.

Edward and I watched them scurry away with youthful energy.

"Our daughter," I sighed out. "I swear if I hadn't given birth to her myself, I'd believe that she was actually Alice's."

"Where does she come up with this stuff?" Edward grinned, as he lightly ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't think Jay knows what hit him. Did you see the way he looked at her?"

"Oh, I saw it. Reminds me of a young Edward Masen looking at the girl next door."

"No such thing, mister," I corrected him. "You never gave me googly eyes until we were at least 18."

"Maybe I remember it differently?"

"Maybe you remember it wrong."

He ruffled my hair, and then bent down to peck my lips. "We should pick up this mess and then go meet Jay's mom. Maybe she'll tell us all about the S.O.B.?"

"Or perhaps about the fleecing?"

I grinned. He grinned, beautifully and crookedly as always. He took my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips for a tender kiss. Then we both bent down and began to collect Ren's assortment of ribbons.

"So, if our daughter thinks the Sycamore is going to be hers and Jay's, she's got another think coming," Edward mused playfully.

"My thoughts exactly. I mean how can she own something that already belongs to someone else, right?"

"It's belonged to someone else for almost thirty seven years? That's practically forever."

"So, Dr. Masen, exactly when were you planning on telling me about what the arborist said?" My tone was still playful, but my Edward knew me. He most certainly sensed my mild irritation.

"I meant to talk to you about it," he hedged.

"Oh, I'm sure you did."

"I just thought I might wait to tell you anything. You know…to see if the tree perks up after the arborist does his thing."

"So our eight-year-old daughter and her new sidekick got to know and I didn't?"

"Didn't know she was eavesdropping, though I should have suspected as much. Besides, I was scared if you knew about it, you'd stage a protest…or a hunger strike or something," he added, straight faced, but with a telltale smile in his eyes.

"And I still might."

"Why?" he smirked. "Because Our Tree is magical, like a unicorn?"

"It may not be magical, but it's important. I mean, consider all the memories we have under it."

"I'm with you, Bells. I don't want to see it go either. And yes, the memories there can't even be quantified. But you know what?"

"What?" I answered softly, all kidding aside, feeling a bit blue. It was likely a melancholy resulting from a negative e.p.t., but the thought of my lifelong friend and landmark not sitting outside our windows was unthinkable.

"The memories I have in _here," _he put my hand over his heart and held it there firmly, "are unquantifiable too. If that wasn't true, I'd take part in a hunger strike with you."

"You would, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," he played along, his green eyes dancing. "Posters, picket lines, throwing my body in front of the chainsaw…the whole nine yards. Our protest would trump anything Ren has up her little sleeve."

"Well, good thing that's not necessary, then."

"Good thing, indeed." The side of his mouth quirked into that half grin I so adored.

Ren and Jay ran up to us-bright eyed and flush cheeked. She used her thumb to point over at Jay. "His mom said he could go with us. She can't come though. She's got to finish up in the house."

"Are you sure?" I questioned them warily; knowing I'd never let Ren just get in the car with someone I'd never met nor laid eyes on.

Jay held up a five-dollar bill, wadded in his little fist, "She said yes. "

"Maybe we should go in and meet her first?"

"She's on the phone right now. Said she didn't want to be bothered, but that I could go with you if we could be back in thirty minutes. She has night class."

I opened my mouth to speak some practicality into the situation, feeling very uncomfortable with the idea of taking this child with us without speaking with his mom. But before I could voice my concern Edward cut me off.

"Thirty minutes it is then," he agreed with a firm nod.

I found Edward's eyes. I widened mine to silently communicate my objection. He merely gave me a subtle nod and a tiny wink, and turned to look at the kids.

Ren and Jay high fived and then launched into some sort of secret handshake they'd apparently created. Then they ran, screaming all the way, over to our minivan sitting in the drive.

"This is weird, Edward," I mumbled under my breath, once they were out of earshot. "For all his mother knows we're serial killers."

"But we're not," Edward offered, simply.

"Or we could be child molesters."

"But we're not."

"Or…or we could be horrible drivers."

"But _I'm _not," he added once more, with a playful wink.

"All I'm saying is I just can't believe she'd hand over her child that readily to total strangers."

Edward shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as we began to walk toward the van. "Don't be so quick to judge."

"I'm…I'm not _judging_ her. I'm just _observing_ her parenting choices."

I could tell he was amused by my justification, but wisely Edward kept his comments to himself.

"Bella, I have a feeling about Jay."

"Okay?"

"Have you ever just had the sense that something big is happening? Something…oh, I don't know…providential?"

"Sure I have," I admitted. "So...so you're saying you feel that way about Jay?"

"I know it sounds hokey or whatever." Edward paused and looked up to the sky, a posture he often assumed when searching for the right words. "I mean what if 67th Street in my old house is exactly where Jay and his mom needed to move, because _we're_ exactly what they need in their life?"

"What's that even mean?"

With his eyebrows lifted, Edward explained, "I mean, maybe Jay's mother _needs_ neighbors in her life right now who she can trust, sight unseen, to take her little guy for some ice cream. That's what I'm saying. She's obviously going to night school. Has an ex-husband who got himself a new family."

Then he paused thoughtfully for several beats. "Just reminds me of someone I know. Someone who lived quite desperately, in that very house, for a lot of years."

"Esme," I whispered.

"Esme," he echoed me softly.

My heart lurched into my throat at his words, as a sudden compassion overwhelmed me not only for Jay, but also for his mother, who not seconds before I had mentally deemed unfit.

"I…I hadn't thought of it like that," I admitted quietly, feeling ashamed. "Maybe you're right."

"I _really_ hope I am, Bells," he replied, his gaze earnest.

We looked into each other's eyes, wordless, for several moments, before Edward put his arm around me and pulled me to his side.

"So what do you say, Bells? How about we take our sweet mess of a daughter and her new best friend and get some milkshakes?"

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"So, you're not gonna kill me that this will likely spoil Ren's dinner?"

"Nah. Like you said, it's a special occasion," I told him, feeling that stir in my gut that told me it was indeed just that.

We walked to the mini-van, which Ren and Jay were already within. As I opened the door to get inside, the little guy was looking at me from the backseat, eyes wide and blue, smile unabashed. He was like a sponge, lapping up and soaking in every last drop of attention we offered. It was impossible to not be wholly endeared to the child.

I grinned back at him, the promise of tears imminent. In Jay's innocent eyes, which I'd seen turn weary in a heartbeat, I found I was no longer bothered by his mother's parenting choices. If anything, I was inspired by them, wanting to step outside myself and my worries-namely a plastic stick with the power to crush me—and give the little guy a million reasons to smile. A million reasons to stay young and unencumbered.

"So, are we ready to go or what?" I asked our two amped passengers, as I discreetly used my pinkies to dab at the moisture in the corners of my eyes.

"Ready!" they squealed in unison.

"Are you guys buckled in?" I inquired, already knowing the answer.

Both immediately reached for their seat belts. Ren struggled to get hers to click in, until Jay leaned over and assisted her. She sent him a high voltage grin of appreciation, and Jay looked like he won the lottery in its wake.

I cranked up the _High School Musical_ CD already loaded in the player, knowing Ren would be making a request for "more loudness" if I didn't. I sneaked a look at Edward as he struggled with increasing frustration, as per usual, to adjust the driver seat—which was in position to accommodate a much shorter me. Then I glanced, via the rear view mirror, at my daughter and her new friend, as they sang along with the music. They laughed and sang right into each other's face, uninhibited and free, looking as though they'd known each other their whole lives, and not just a few hours.

"Mom?" Ren asked me in a loud voice, over the music.

"Yes, sweetie."

"I don't want this day to ever end, and know what else?"

"What?"

"I can't wait till Jay moves in for good."

I turned in my seat and found Jay's eyes with mine. He wore a smile that split his little face in half. As Ren's words settled on him, their effect was clear. He sat up a bit straighter, and held his head a touch higher.

"I can't wait either, sweetie," I answered my daughter, reaching back to give her hand a quick squeeze.

I glanced at Edward, who was listening to our exchange. His eyes were soft and he winked at me knowingly.

Perhaps it _was _providential and maybe the new boy next door was not here by accident. Maybe he was here to stay, and as Edward had intimated, Jay in some way did need the Masen family.

And maybe, just maybe, we needed him too.

**THE END**


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